


Blind Vengeance

by Necro (Charlie_M)



Series: Phoenix Rising [5]
Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted/found family, Canon Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flashbacks, Manipulation, Moral Ambiguity, Nix is way different this time, Past Abuse, Slow Burn, enemies to reluctant parents to lovers, implied PTSD, this one goes hard guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2020-08-09 18:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 83,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20123020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_M/pseuds/Necro
Summary: “Are you evil?”Nix winced. Wasn’t that a question. She wasn’t prepared to answer something like that on a good day, never mind injured and dehydrated.“I… try not to be.”Phoenix is many things. She is a powerful magician. She is a world-class bounty hunter. She is the niece of Outworld's Arch-Sorcerer and twin sister to one of the most powerful (and insane) men in the world. On second thought, the crazy bit might be a family trait.After a fateful encounter, though, she is first and foremost the adopted (not adoptive, because that implies she had a say in it) mother of one Takahashi Takeda.





	1. Instruments of Cyanide

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I know I haven't posted in a while (and not even what I'm supposed to be posting) but I have good reasons! I'm actually studying in another country right now, so wifi has been... interesting. Also, I've been dying to get to this story ever since I thought about it.
> 
> When I say Nix is different than any previous version, I mean it, guys. I'm so excited for this. Mind the tags, though.
> 
> (Credit for the below quote and ones in future chapters goes to "Instruments of Cyanide" by Dagames)

**This life did not choose us,  
** **it chose to consume us.**

Prologue

*THEN*

_ Arch-Sorcerer Quan Chi was gathering a nexus of magic. While Shang Tsung and Shao Kahn were preoccupied with their pithy tournaments, he would arrange all the necessary pieces for his master’s glorious return. Mortal Kombat would soon be nothing but pointless busywork when Shinnok was finally unleashed to rule over the realms. _

_ Smoky emerald plumes of energy gathered around him, pulsing and writhing. The incantation was already memorized, every syllable and phoneme prepared for recitation. He began to enunciate clearly, the dank chamber reverberating with his voice. _

_ The magic coalesced, condensed, prepared to release… _

_ “Lord Quan Chi!” _

_ He faltered at the unexpected interruption. A loud  _ crack _ sounded throughout the chamber, deafening as the spell misfired. Quan Chi jerked his hands back, skin smarting. The green haze solidified into some kind of portal, unlike any he’d ever encountered before. Green at the edges but delicate silver at its center, glimmering like woven strands of a spiderweb.  _

_ He had no idea where it would lead, what was waiting on the other side. Allies? Foes? Nothing at all but an eternal oblivion ripped in the fabric of time and space between realms? Far beyond the silvery threshold, he could discern a shadowy mass. _

_ “You ruined my spell.” _

_ The servant quavered behind him. “M-my apologies, Lord Quan Chi, but I—” _

_ His excuses were interrupted by his own scream as a portal opened beneath his feet (purposefully, this time) and dropped him deep into the pits of the NetherRealm. _

_ In the mysterious new portal, the wide, formless shadow split into two. The soft edges began to sharpen, the color darkening. If he wasn’t mistaken, that meant that the two shapes were growing closer. In another few seconds, he could see appendages swinging in tandem. What appeared to be a stumble from the left shape. _

_ In the split second before the portal burst, he realized that the two figures were… very small. _

_ Then a pair of— of  _ children  _ sprinted into his world, and directly into his legs. The remains of the unknown portal dissipated in an incandescent shimmer. The children fell to the ground in hapless heaps, then scrambled up again. They had the wide, wild eyes of the hunted, little chests heaving as they babbled to each other in a language that sounded almost like English. _

_ Quan Chi cast a simple translation spell over them, and something sparked in his perceptions. Interesting, very interesting… _

_ Though he was unfamiliar with children, he knew that they couldn’t have been more than a decade old. A pair of fraternal twins, a boy and a girl. The boy’s hair was dark green, formed a halo of unruly curls around his head and only drew more attention to the pale jade of his eyes. By contrast, the girl’s hair was pale lilac framed around violet irises. _

_ Thus far in their development, that was where their differences ended, but that would change as they grew. Quan Chi assumed the strange coloration was from the dimensional shift, because they appeared otherwise human. _

_ “Tell me, little ones, what are you running from?” he asked. _

_ They blinked up at him, exchanged glances. He clasped his hands behind his back and waited. _

_ “Bad men,” the girl blurted. _

_ Bad men. Mercenaries? Assassins? He doubted they would understand what those words meant. _

_ “Why were they after you?” _

_ The boy snorted and crossed his arms. “That’s what  _ we _ want to know.” _

_ “They were after mommy and daddy,” the girl corrected, shaking her head, “but they told us to run.” _

_ They were smarter than he anticipated, and much more… lively. Kitana, Skarlet, and Jade were not so energetic, but then they were constrained by their upbringings and their caretakers. Shao Kahn had kept Kitana as a favor to his Edenian wife, Sindel. Jade’s parents had traded her to Shao Kahn for her potential, was being trained as an assassin. Skarlet was Shao Kahn’s pet project, and still half feral. What would two more brats running around the palace be? _

_ Their latent abilities far exceeded those of the other children, including Skarlet. With the right tutelage, they would be great assets to Quan Chi and his master.  _

_ “And you were right to listen,” he praised, “for it brought you to me.” _

_ The boy narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?” _

_ “I opened that portal to bring you here, for your protection.” _

_ The girl’s eyebrows furrowed as she cocked her head. Already connected to her powers, it seemed, and adept at reading people. She did not immediately believe him. _

_ “Why?” she questioned. “Who are you?” _

_ Now, how were mortal familial relations structured, again? Born of NetherRealm, Quan Chi had no family and had never had a desire for one. However, he’d observed them long enough that he could formulate a serviceable lie. Fledgling psychics or not, they were still only children, and they couldn’t breach his own mental walls. _

_ “You may call me your uncle Quan Chi.” _

_ The boy scrunched up his nose. “Our  _ uncle? _ You don’t look like our parents at all.” _

_ They would not know how fortunate they were that he was the more patient of the two sorcerers in Shao Kahn’s employ. Or, they did not know  _ yet _ . After all, they’d have to come into contact with Shang Tsung eventually. _

_ Quan Chi’s smile was thin. “I was adopted,” he explained. “Just as I am now adopting you.” _

_ “Wait, what?!” the girl piped up, with the most comical expression of dismay he’d ever seen. “What about our parents?” _

_ He shook his head. “I’m afraid your parents are dead,” he replied, “and even if they somehow survived, I am unable to send you back.” _

_ He did not expect her to burst into tears. It happened so suddenly that even her brother, who still seemed to be in shock, was startled. Perhaps there had been a more delicate way to say that, but Quan Chi had no interest in coddling. Better that they understand the reality of the situation now. _

_ However… for the sake of his time and patience, it would be worthwhile to deliver future news with more care, he thought, as the boy also broke into noisy sobs. He suffered it for a few moments before leaning down and taking one of their tiny shoulders in each hand. With a little shake, they quieted long though to blink at him through watery eyes. _

_ “There, there, little ones,” he soothed. “I will take care of you from now on. I will teach you things you could never hope to learn from your parents.” _

_ They wiped at their eyes, still sniffling but quieter. The girl’s small, trembling hand touched his wrist in apparent acceptance. Satisfied that they had ceased crying, he straightened and folded his hands behind his back again. _

_ “Now, your names,” he requested. _

_ “Phoenix. _

_ “Nathan.” _

_ “Welcome to Outworld, niece and nephew.” _

*NOW*

Lights popped across Nix’s vision as the blow landed, jostled the mask covering the lower half of her face. She countered even as she tried to shake it off, thankful for the two idiot men supporting her arms. Her stomach flexed, legs wrapping around the neck of the one who’d hit her, locked tight enough to make his eyes bulge.

The two on her sides released her arms in panic, but that was fine. She arched her spine, arms extended over her head. Her gloved hands planted in glass shards that crunched beneath her palms. Another flex and the man in her clutches pitched forward, flipped onto his back. He was winded, but she landed on her feet in a crouch. The whole maneuver made the injury in her side smart, but she’d power through.

Nix popped to her feet and launched at the first opponent in her path, tackling him through a window. It was only a one-story fall onto a fire escape that she cushioned with his body, and the impact knocked him out cold. She shot up to survey her surroundings with her eyes but it was her psychic sense that provided the important information.

Five more. She could deal with five more.

Nix darted to the railing and swung herself over two-handed, landed five stories lower in a back alley. Two men burst through the solid metal door ahead of her, blocking her only exit out. They pulled guns, only to have them yanked from their hands with a burst of purple static. That took their attention off her for a split second, long enough that she was already sprinting at them when they looked up again.

They tensed as she shot forwards, only for her to disappear just before barrelling into them. Nix dropped through a second portal conjured right above their heads, blades sinking into their neck and shoulder respectively. Straightening over their fallen bodies, she exhaled hard and scooped a gun from the floor, already walking for the mouth of the alley.

The door slammed open again behind her. She half-turned, raised her arm.

_ Bam.  _ Miss, dammit _ . Bam.  _ Hit _ ,  _ headshot _ . Bam— bam— bam— click—  _ fuck.

She hurled the gun with a blast of psychic power that drove it into the man’s face. Blood sprayed from his shattered nose. He stumbled, tripped over a body and fell, his skull bouncing off the ground.

Thunder cracked overhead. She tilted her head back to peer at the night sky. Not a cloud in sight.

“What does he want?” she muttered.

The distraction cost her. She didn’t sense the man until he was pulling the trigger. Nix darted to the left, but too slow. Burning agony ripped through her side, then her thigh. She shouted and dropped to one knee, head whipping around to glare over her shoulder. When he tried to get another shot off, the gun exploded in his hand.

He yelped and gripped his ruined hand, grimacing as she staggered to her feet and turned on him. Her eyes must have been glowing something fierce, because he jerked back a step and paled. Nathan must not have told him what he was getting into. A feral sound erupted from her as she ran at him, teeth bared behind her mask. The world shifted out of focus— 

When Nix came back to herself, there was a bloody body on the ground at her feet. The man’s head was bashed in and her boots were covered in blood and… bits. Hissing between her teeth, she stumbled back as a wave of disgust washed over her. Along with it came the pain and fatigue that she’d ignored during the fight. Her knees buckled, hit the ground hard enough to rattle her bones through the protective guards.

Nix’s vision swam. She needed air. Slippery fingers scrabbled at the buckle to her mask, let it clatter to the ground. It helped, but not enough. She was going to pass out. She knew it. Knew her body and its infuriating limits all too well.

“Phoenix Merce,” a deep, disapproving voice cut through the haze, “you have found trouble yet again.”

She tilted her chin up, narrowed her eyes in a vain attempt to focus on Raiden’s blurry form. “Trouble found me.”

She had just enough time to open a portal beneath herself. And then everything went black.

***

There was sunlight on Nix’s face. Early morning, it felt like. She seemed to be laying on grass. Someone was approaching. Her body hurt.

Instinct born from training forced her eyes open despite the migraine piercing her skull. There was a woman hesitating just a couple yards away, a young boy standing by her leg. Nix’s vision swam in and out, but the woman seemed to be considering her very carefully. As she should.

“Can you speak?” she asked in Thai. “For that matter, can you understand me?”

Nix tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. “Yeah,” she rasped.

“Are you evil?”

Nix winced. Wasn’t that a question. She wasn’t prepared to answer something like that on a good day, never mind injured and dehydrated.

“I… try not to be.”

There was a beat of silence. Nix thought she’d maybe passed out again. Then she heard the woman’s voice.

“Takeda, take the bags. We’re going to get help this person.”


	2. Young and Menace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix makes friends... for the first time in her life. She's really protective.

**I walk this river of conscience  
For a time where we come to escape here**

Nix spent a couple weeks in Suchin and Takeda’s care, healing from two gunshots, three stab wounds, a handful of fractured ribs, and a collection of smaller cuts and bruises.

Two weeks was fast healing on most accounts, but slow by her usual standard. She’d learned spells that would have fixed her up immediately, but those were… well, she was trying not do that anymore. Relying on the kindness of others went against her nature, but it was better than the alternative method.

The first few days, Nix couldn’t even sit up without agony tearing through her abdomen. By the end of week one, though, she was able to stand and walk short distances with only a little assistance. 

Suchin was… well, she was something else. She was an adept if unexpected nurse, with a personality that burned bright and defiant in Nix’s perceptions. She didn’t ask too many questions, just for Nix’s name and how she’d ended up half-dead in their front yard.

It was her son, Takeda, who ended up giving Nix the third degree throughout her stay. At seven-years-old he had a lot on his mind and no filter for any of it. Nix got a grace period of exactly three days before he began the barrage and there was only so much his mother could (or would) do to stifle his curiosity.

Nix wasn’t accustomed to children. As far as she knew, the last children to have graced Shao Kahn’s walls had been her and Nathan, along with Kitana, Jade, and Skarlet. They’d all grown up at the same time (but not together) and there hadn’t been any children after them. She’d never had a lot of interaction with the next generation, even after she’d left Outworld for good.

Takeda didn’t seem to care about that, though. He just wanted to know her entire life story and then some.

“Where did you get that scar on your nose?”

“Why is your hair purple?”

“Are your knives real? Can you show me?”

There was no satisfying his curiosity. If she was vague, his questions got more pointed and specific. If she gave him the long, detailed answers he craved, he ended up with a thousand more to follow up.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” he asked one night at dinner.

He had to know the answer to that, given the state they’d found her in. The nightmares that made her restless. Her precision with a knife when she helped cook or when she scoffed at violent TV shows and movies.

So, he must have known that the answer was an emphatic yes, but Nix choked on rice anyway. Suchin seemed amused, sipping her tea with arched eyebrows across the table. Nix may not have been good with kids, but even she knew that she probably wasn’t supposed to answer that honestly. On the other hand, she also believed in being honest with kids, and she doubted he’d believe her if she said no.

“Well… um…” She glanced at Suchin, hoping for help before she buckled and scarred Takeda for life.

“Stop asking Nix difficult questions and finish your dinner.”

He didn’t stop, but it got her out of that one question, so she appreciated it.

Despite the almost unending interrogation (and really, it was far from the worst she’d ever suffered) Nix found herself enjoying her stay. Takeda and Suchin lived quiet, peaceful lives in a small, slow town. They loved each other, and their lives were simple and happy. They were welcoming and kind to her, even though she’d done nothing to deserve it.

It was the kind of existence she’d dreamed of once upon a time, which made it difficult to remind herself that it was all temporary.

At the end of two weeks, Nix was finally healed enough to win if she walked into another ambush. It was time to move on, before the siren call of suburban life fooled her into thinking she was something else. Better to leave before she grew too attached to an existence (and people) that was impossible for her.

One morning, she hid a thick stack of bills where Suchin would find it only after Nix was out of yelling range. Then she wandered to the kitchen, where Suchin was preparing breakfast. She glanced up as Nix leaned her shoulder in the doorway, recognized the restored tactical clothes Nix had first appeared in.

“You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, which is why I should leave before I put you in danger. Well, any more danger.”

Suchin was silent for a moment before sighing. “At least have breakfast. Give Takeda time. He really likes you.”

Nix hid most of her smile as she inclined her head, but she knew the corner of her mouth twitched up and Suchin noticed. How quickly a warm bed and good company had ruined her mask of impassivity.

“He’s a good kid,” Nix admitted.

“I’m very lucky.”

Nix nodded. Her memories were a bit fuzzy from getting her head knocked around and invaded so often, but she remembered that Nate had been a handful when they were kids. Defiant and difficult, as their uncle— as  _ Quan Chi—  _ had often described him. Then again, that might not have been a fair assessment from a man who’d taken them in on a whim… and hadn’t even been human at that.

In any case, Takeda really was a great kid. Headstrong and stubborn, at times, but his heart was always in a good place.

“Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. You should tell Takeda now so he can get used to the idea,” Suchin added.

Nix wandered into the living room and dropped onto the couch next to Takeda, who was watching TV. Some kid’s show that was kind of obnoxious but she’d suffered for his sake. She left a cushion of space between them, but Takeda still ended up snuggled into her side.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” he asked before she could say anything.

Her eyes slid sideways to gauge his expression, but his gaze was focused on the TV, face carefully blank. Okay. That was how it was. She could roll with that.

“I have to,” she replied.

“Bullshit.”

“Hey, your mom doesn’t like it when you swear,” she reminded, “and it’s not bullshit. You’ve asked enough questions to know that my job isn’t exactly safe.”

He sighed, finally turned away from the screen to peer up at her. His face was so young and earnest that it always caught her off-guard. Nix felt an unfamiliar pang in her heart as he frowned.

“What  _ is _ your job?” he demanded.

“I’m a, uh, bounty hunter. Bad guys pay me to... get rid of other bad guys,” she explained. It wasn’t lost on her that she had the same job as the people that had killed her parents and indirectly led her to Outworld. Quan Chi would have called it the circular nature of the universe. Nix just called it supply and demand. “But sometimes I steal things.”

He made a disgruntled noise. “That is pretty dangerous.”

She tried not to sag with relief. Give her Shinnok himself and she wouldn’t bat an eyelash. She’d been trained not to. No hesitation, no emotion. Nothing but focus and calm. All that went out the window the minute Takeda narrowed his eyes at her and asked questions he should have been too young to ask. Seven-year-olds. Her kryptonite, apparently.

“Right,” she said, “and I chose to do that, but you and your mom didn’t. I don’t want the people after me to try to hurt you.”

He scrunched his eyebrows, scowling at his lap as he seemed to consider it. After a beat, he turned back to her. “Well, could you at least visit? Every once in a while couldn’t hurt… right?”

And fuck if that didn’t make her stupid, soft heart squeeze. What the hell had happened to her in just two weeks?

“Well… maybe. We’ll see.”

He crossed his arms and flopped back. “When grown-ups say ‘maybe,’ they mean no.”

Nix frowned. Was that his experience? No one had ever told her “maybe.” Growing up, it had always been “yes” or “no” and that was final except for a few rare occasions. It had been like that for all the kids in Shao Kahn’s palace.

“I don’t mean no,” she promised. “I mean maybe. I’ll try to think of a way to see you guys without putting you in danger— as long as your mom is okay with it, anyway.”

“She is,” Suchin said from behind the couch. “Come and eat. Breakfast is ready.”

They migrated to the table, where Takeda proceeded to question her within an inch of her life again.

“Where will you go?”

She considered. Bangkok was off limits for a little bit. Two weeks had allowed Nix some time to think about the guys from the last fight, and she was pretty sure they weren’t Nathan’s. He was always cavalier about sending men to their dooms at her hands, but they were usually more reticent about injuring her under his orders.

Probably Black Dragon, then, which meant they would still be prowling the city looking for her. Where to, then? Nix liked big cities. Too many souls for her family to find her easily, and lots of jobs to keep her busy and paid. Higher chance of running into other mercenaries, but she wasn’t worried about them.

Most US cities were also not an option, between SF and Black Dragon. Buenos Aires? Rio? Dubai? It had been about a year since Amsterdam, so that was probably an option. Amsterdam was fun.

“Not sure yet,” Nix admitted finally, shrugging. “Where do you think I should go?”

Takeda didn’t even hesitate. “Tokyo.”

“Tokyo, huh?”

She considered. One of the top ten biggest cities in the world, and it had been a year or two since she’d last skulked around there. She wasn’t even on bad terms with the Yakuza.

“Yeah, okay. I could go to Tokyo.”

Takeda’s face lit up. “When you come back, can you bring me Japanese candy or something?”

Suchin flicked his arm. “Don’t be rude.”

Nix was laughing before she realized it, nearly cut herself off in her surprise. When was the last time she’d laughed? Fuck, was she really going to…? Yeah, yeah she was.

“No, it’s alright,” Nix assured. “ _ If _ I can come back, I’ll bring you a couple things. How does that sound?”

Takeda beamed and returned to his meal with newfound enthusiasm. Nix spent the rest of breakfast distracted by just how she’d be able to honor his request without leading anyone back to them.

She didn’t keep a lot of tech on her to begin with, and that was easy to deal with so long as it was turned off. Magic was the real issue, but if she cast some concealment spells… maybe a glamour…

Nathan tended to send men to bother her at almost regular intervals. As long as she visited during those “off” periods, he wouldn’t think anything of being unable to find her.

When breakfast was finished, she helped Suchin clean up and then said her goodbyes. As she was preparing to leave, sudden paranoia gripped her. Nix didn’t get to have friends, or kind people in her life. She had weird sort-of acquaintances and reluctant allies if not outright enemies. She genuinely liked Suchin and Takeda. It was terrifying.

“Here.” Nix unclipped one of the ornate rings from the cartilage in her ear, leftover from her time in Outworld. She murmured a quick spell and set it in Suchin’s palm. “If something happens while I’m gone… a drop of blood and I’ll be here.”

And then the voices of all her mentors and teachers kicked in, warning against displays of vulnerability, and she added, “I owe you, after all, for what you’ve done for me.”

Suchin eyed her for a moment before her elegant fingers curled around the cool metal. She nodded, and Nix felt gratitude and understanding radiating from her, though she said nothing.

“Be safe,” she said instead.

Nix ducked her head. “As safe as I can be.”

*THEN*

_ Nix’s body was on fire, radiating out from a searing burn in her lungs. It made every breath scorch up and down her esophagus like there was an inferno burning deep in her chest. All she wanted was curl into a ball, but the oversight of her uncle had advised against it while he cast a counterspell. _

_ “How did this happen?” he asked. Nathan launched into an explanation while Nix grit her teeth and stubbornly tried not to cry. _

_ She was only ten, but two years was a long time for a kid to adapt to their environment. A child’s flexibility was a quality that their uncle often praised, and it had served Phoenix and Nathan well since their adoption. _

_ Outworld had seemed complicated at first, but Nix and Nate had deciphered the secret to success within a month. Their new lives revolved around (their uncle’s) expectations. As long as they met those expectations, things were okay. _

_ The rules were pretty easy to follow, once they’d figure them all out. _

_ They were to be silent in front of adults unless spoken to, and to use people’s proper titles. She never slipped up with those, not after Nate forgot to address Shang Tsung properly once. The only time they were encouraged to be vocal was in lessons with their tutors or uncle, which they were to understand and master without difficulty. _

_ They abided by the rigid daily schedule that their uncle had established. Rise before the Outworld sun, dress and attend Kombat training. They were always joined by Jade, Skarlet, and Princess Kitana unless one of the five was too sick or injured to participate. As grueling as it was, falling behind was not an option if they didn’t want to double their injuries— the first set from losing, the second when their uncle found out. _

_ Following Kombat training, they washed and ate breakfast with Uncle Quan Chi. That lead directly into practice with magic and their psychic abilities, where the only leeway for failure lay. After magic, they had a brief respite, an hour to themselves before prompt attendance to their academic studies— the easiest portion of Nix’s day, and the most infuriating for Nate. _

_ At the end of lessons, they met with their uncle again, who received a full report from their tutors on their progress. Assuming they’d behaved well and performed to his expectations, they were left to their own devices until dinner. Post dinner, they were banished to their quarters until the next day. _

_ Their uncle said that the structure was healthy, kept their natural destructive tendencies as children to a minimum. Nix thought that he had perhaps been too optimistic about that. _

_ “Why were you snooping in Shang Tsung’s chambers?” Quan Chi demanded. “You know you are not permitted there.” _

_ The pain was beginning to lessen in agonizingly slow increments. Still, she knew that he expected an answer and she would do well to provide one before he changed his mind about helping her at all. _

_ “I was looking for that potion he gave me last time…” She winced. How had the nurse so delicately described it? “For womanly… discomfort. I thought it would be better to get it myself than bother anyone.” _

_ Her uncle’s expression was impassive, but the pain continued to abate. She was undoubtedly in trouble, but at least he wasn’t making her suffer— well, any more than she already had. After all, the spell had had her in its grip for about an hour before he’d finally come. _

_ “You were incorrect,” he said at last, though his voice wasn’t grave, “as I’m sure you now see. What have you learned, niece?” _

_ And that was sometimes the hardest expectation to meet. When she and/or Nathan made mistakes, when they broke the rules or failed in some way, their uncle always wanted them to know exactly what they’d done wrong. A learning experience, he called it. Too bad the lessons were always so terrifying. _

_ Giving her time to consider the answer, Quan Chi stepped away with a gesture for her to sit up. The blaze in her body had faded to smoldering embers, only uncomfortable anymore and even that was dissipating. She pushed herself up and swung her legs over the side of the table but didn’t stand. When he returned, she knew he wanted her response. _

_ “I should ask you when I need these things in the future,” she said, ducking her head. _

_ He gripped her chin and tilted her face up. Nix kept her eyes lowered, shoulders tense and stomach tight but otherwise compliant. Ingrained fear for retribution made her heart thump hard in her chest, but pulling away was not an option. _

_ Her uncle turned her head this way and that, inspected for any damage from the glass that had exploded in her face. There were a couple scratches, but nothing that needed more care than a standard cleaning. Nix was lucky there wouldn’t be any scars. _

_ “Indeed,” he confirmed finally, releasing her. He took a step back and she inhaled, slow and deep. “Starting tomorrow, you will begin brewing that potion for yourself, and keep a stock of it in my wares. Do not enter Shang Tsung’s chambers uninvited again. Am I clear?” _

_ “Yes, uncle,” she whispered. _

_ “You will also apologize and assist him with his experiments for the week.” _

_ She bit back a groan. Shang Tsung hated her and Nathan, and he was sure to be even worse because she’d destroyed the potion that had spelled her in the first place. His chambers were ugly and dark, disorganized and smelly. Like dead, rotting things and vomit. _

_ All things considered, though, it wasn’t the worst punishment she’d received. _

_ “Yes, uncle.” _

_ He placed a hand on her head, a rare gesture of affection that made her eyes widen. “You show promise. I’m sure you would have found what you were looking for, had Shang Tsung’s wards not backfired,” he said. “It is time you began aiding me.” _


	3. Bad Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix goes back to work.
> 
> It's... bloody work.

**Fall into the hands of sorrow**   
** Drawn by the darkest bay**   
** Walk into the pit of silence**   
** I am the one calling your name**

Nix glanced at the handcuffs shackled to her wrists, deeply unimpressed.

“What is this, amateur hour?” she drawled. “Where’s Kano? My foot wants a word with his ass.”

The Black Dragon lackeys lining the kidnapper van eyed her. One of them sucked his teeth, gestured to her with the knife he’d been fondling like he wished it was his dick. He had their tattoo stamped across his face, as if his contribution was worth more than the bill to clean up his body. He seemed to be the leader of the little unit of idiots who’d snatched her off the Tokyo streets.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped.

Nix rolled her eyes. Their little club was starting to get on her nerves. Kano should have known better than to bother her again so soon, but maybe he’d forgotten just what kind of havoc she could wreak. It was about time she reminded him.

She relaxed her shoulders, swayed forward with the rocking of the van. Her mouth curled into the pretty little smile her uncle had spent so long crafting. Her teeth felt too sharp.

“Real original,” she purred. “Why don’t you do something about it? Or are you all lip service?

He jerked towards her, but one of his buddies grabbed his shoulder and hauled him back just as her eyes began to glow.

“The bitch is fucking unhinged,” the buddy said, “just let Kano deal with her when he gets here.”

Nix swept her tongue along her upper lip, anticipating the unholy hell she was soon to unleash. Of all the people and organizations that wanted her dead or otherwise, Black Dragon was her least favorite. That was why she and Nathan had once ripped that nifty cybernetic attachment from Kano’s skull.

Too bad they hadn’t had the honor of putting it there in the first place.

“It’s cute that you think there’ll _ be _ anything for Kano to get to.”

The goon sitting on her right lunged, hand latching to her throat and knocking her head against the side of the van. She didn’t even feel it, just smiled a bit wider. He wasn’t the first person to threaten (or even try) to choke her, and he wouldn’t be the last.

“What the fuck are you going to do?” he taunted. “You’re just some dumb bitch with a smart mouth.”

Nix chuckled. “See, that’s how I know you’re the B-team.”

The man with the face tattoo sneered. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, sarcasm dripping. “And how’s that?”

The bar of lights over their heads began flickering.

“Because you wanted me alive.”

*THEN*

_ “Kano,” Baldy greeted, “welcome to my humble workshop.” _

_ His “workshop” looked like something out of a creepy cartoon. Vials and cauldrons and dismembered bodies all organized on tables and counters. His two little pets were by his side as always, all glow-y and weird. The boy was pouring something into a pot boiling over a green fire. The girl turned as Kano swaggered into the dank chamber, purple eyes boring into him. _

_ He eyed her right back, felt a shiver travel down his spine that would never show. He was still new to Outworld, but he hadn’t been freaked out by any of the fucked up shit he’d seen wandering around so far. There wasn’t much that could bother a bloke like him, after all. _

_ But those twins were like something out of _ The Shining _ . “Uncle Quan Chi” his arse. Kano wouldn’t be surprised if those two were just life-sized dolls, running on magic. _

_ The girl certainly looked like it most of the time. Smooth, blank features. Perfect posture, tight little body. Kano wouldn’t have minded a ride on that crazy carousel if he wasn’t sure she’d be cold as ice. And maybe even then, except— _

_ A pang hit him in the stomach, like someone had poked his intestines with a knife. He knew without a doubt that it had been the girl, because the boy had been less gentle with his “warning” the last time. Kano scowled, hands twitching for a weapon. _

_ “Phoenix,” Quan Chi chastised, though he didn’t sound much like he meant it. “Be polite to our guest.” _

_ “Of course, uncle,” she replied. _

_ That was all Kano had heard her say since he’d arrived, variations of “yes/no, uncle/lord/highness.” He’d have thought that was all she could say, except he’d caught her whispering to that brother of hers at dinner the night before. _

_ “What brings you here, mercenary?” Quan Chi asked. _

_ Kano crossed his arms, keeping his eyes fixed on the three magicians. He didn’t trust a damn one of them— even less than he trusted most people. _

_ “Shang Tsung sent me down here,” he answered. “Something about my weapons.” _

_ Quan Chi finally turned from whatever the fuck he was doing, hands clasping behind his back. _

_ “Ah, yes,” he intoned. “Shao Kahn requested that I enchant your weaponry if he is to employ you.” _

_ He stepped away from the cauldron, smirking like he knew something Kano didn’t, and began strolling towards the exit. Kano followed after, barely resisting the urge to curse up a storm out of pure irritation. As far as he was concerned, the magic mumbo-jumbo was a waste of time, but he wasn’t stupid enough to turn down an emperor. _

_ “Come along, Nathan,” Baldy called over his shoulder. “Phoenix, finish the spell and then join us.” _

_ The boy fell in just a step behind his uncle, leaving Kano to bring up the rear. There was an itch between his shoulder blades as they walked the dark halls, the fine-tuned sense of someone watching him, but he’d be fucked if he glanced around like a paranoid bastard. _

_ When they finally reached the armory where Kano’s favorite toys were laid out on a table, he felt himself loosen up a little. Close to his weapons and close to daylight, he was less uneasy. _

_ “This should not take long,” Quan Chi said, “and then you may try them for yourself.” _

_ Kano crossed his arms and stood back as they waved their hands over his weapons and mumbled like crazy people. Narrowed his eyes when they began to glow and then faded away like nothing had happened. When he picked up one of his daggers, he was flooded with strength and energy that made him grin like a shark. This he could get used to. _

_ They met Shao Kahn in the empty Koliseum, his queen and the princess trailing behind. The twins were reunited as well, standing together behind baldy. _

_ “A demonstration is in order,” Shao Kahn announced. “Quan Chi, one of your apprentices should be sufficient against a warrior of Kano’s caliber.” _

_ It was impossible to tell if the upward quirk of the sorcerer’s mouth was sincere or not, but he inclined his head and gestured to his right. The girl stepped forward past him and took her place on the other side of the arena. With a sweep of her hand, the robes and skirts she wore melted into skin-tight tactical gear better suited to a fight. _

_ Kano leered. “I’ll try not to hurt you too bad, love.” _

_ She tilted her head, a smile that was damn near feral stretching her mouth. “Then I will return the favor.” _

*NOW*

Nix planted the heel of her boot in the man’s chest, leaned in until she could feel his broken ribs begin to creak. The tattoo on his face was ruined, carved to hell and back by his own knife. The only part of his face not painted in blood were the bulging whites of his eyes.

Half their hideout was already in flames, riddled with bullet holes and partially collapsed down one hallway. Bodies littered the ground around her, and a few were even dangling from the ceiling. By all accounts, she’d shown considerable restraint; there would be survivors. Not many, granted, but some.

Her uncle would have been so disappointed with her— and fuck if that wasn’t satisfying.

What remained of the local Black Dragon cell gathered around her, guns aimed but shaking in most of their grips. Nix hummed, inhaled the entropy around her like sweet perfume.

“Tell Kano to come for me himself next time,” she announced, “or I’ll take his other eye and wear it as fucking jewelry.”

Only half of the remaining goons still seemed set on trying to kill her. The other half were one second away from begging her to leave. She smirked, blood that wasn’t hers dripping from her fingertips. Nix fought down the part of her that was still Quan Chi’s niece, that ingrained urge to rip everything and everyone apart.

In the heat of battle, there was no stopping it. Too injured or too angry, she’d black out and when she woke up, the world had usually gone to hell at her hands. But in these moments, she could resist. Shove it back into a little black box and remind herself that she wasn’t that person anymore. A task easier said than done, unfortunately.

In those moments, it felt like she’d never left Outworld at all.

The man trapped beneath her foot began his struggle anew, spitting empty curses and threats. His thin veneer of rage did nothing to hide the white-hot fear that gripped him. It would be so easy to press down, apply just a little more pressure and—

She jolted as what felt like a bolt of electricity buzzed up her spine. It stalled in her chest, concentrated there and tugged. Nix blinked. Her vision cleared of dark edges; her thoughts sharpened from their hazy, senseless bloodlust.

Suchin and Takeda.

“Wish I could stay and play,” she called, opening a portal, “but I have something more important to attend to.”

She stepped directly into their house, prepared for a fight, searching for the enemy. Instead, she found Suchin, staring at her with wide eyes and nursing a cut on her finger. A finger now sporting the earring Nix had left with her, converted into a larger circlet to fit Suchin’s pinky.

In the blink of an eye, the blood soaking Nix’s skin and clothes disappeared. Suchin turned the water off, reached for a towel, but the wound had already been healed as well. Nix’s mind had stalled as soon as she realized what had happened and how she looked, her thoughts blank from mental whiplash. To go from the destruction and slaughter of Black Dragon mercenaries to the tranquility of Shuchin’s home was a shock to her system.

Nix had never been surprised at the things she was capable of. She’d been taught to revel in carnage, to bask in the power of death and spilled blood at her own hands. But she’d been trying to be… different. Not better, she’d probably never be better, but she didn’t want to enjoy the slaughter anymore. An almost impossible task against groups like the Black Dragon.

The lingering exhilaration warred with the complicated web of feelings at seeing Suchin— and being seen by her. All Nix could do was wait for her reaction with bated breath and be grateful that Takeda wasn’t around. It was one thing for him to know on a superficial level what she did. It was another for him to see her in the aftermath, the evidence that she was coated in.

Suchin approached slowly, like Nix was a frightened animal.

“Was any of that blood yours?” she asked.

“No.”

She stopped just within arm’s reach. Nix inhaled and exhaled, slow and deep. She relaxed her shoulders, loosened her hands from fists. Suchin scanned her over. Nix didn’t dare reach out with her psychic powers.

“You’re covered in dirt.” She sounded baffled. Nix had only been thinking of the blood and viscera, so that was all that had been magicked away.

“Ash,” Nix corrected.

There was another long beat of silence. Then Suchin wrinkled her nose and closed the distance between them. She took Nix’s shoulder and turned her around, nudging her deeper into the house.

“You smell like sweat and smoke. Get cleaned up,” she instructed. “I’ll have something for you to eat when you’re done.”

And Nix did as she was instructed.


	4. To Be Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takeda has a request. Suchin isn't sure at first... but she warms up to the idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention that this fic is from multiple POVs, even in the flashbacks.

Suchin stared at the ring on her smallest finger, pensive. It had been about three months since Nix had given it to her, but she’d never gotten used to its presence. Privately, she’d wondered if the promise that accompanied it had been serious, but had had no reason to test it. Now, she had her answer.

She shivered as the image of Nix resurfaced. Clothes soaked and sticking, skin smeared and dripping in crimson. Her eyes had glowed, but the true brightness in them had been anticipation of a violent and fatal retribution for the enemies she’d expected to face.

Instead, she’d found Suchin with a careless injury, and it was like she’d been doused in a bucket of ice water. The blood had disappeared so quickly that Suchin wondered if she’d seen it at all, but she knew she had.

Nix had been disarmingly honest since that first day, bleeding out and half-conscious. She was a bounty hunter who was very good at her job, but that meant she’d made a lot of enemies along the way. She killed people, and they tried to kill her. She’d said that outright from the beginning. Whatever her other sins were, whatever else she did, she didn’t like to lie. Not even to Takeda when he asked questions she’d rather not answer.

Actually, it was that regard for Takeda that had decided Suchin in the first place. Nix had seemed equal parts fascinated and bewildered by him, to a point that had been almost comical. Half the time, she looked at Suchin for help. The other half, she listened to whatever Takeda had to say with the utmost regard, and treated him with respect.

When she spoke to Suchin, there was a guardedness to her voice and features. A learned impassivity. She emoted only as much as was necessary to express emotion and spoke in clipped, concise sentences. It was worse than Kenshi had been when Suchin had finally asked about his eyes.

However, the minute Takeda wanted Nix’s attention, it was like he’d baffled her into humanity just by virtue of being a kid. Given who his father was, it told Suchin a lot that her son had warmed up to someone like that so quickly. Nix had said that she tried not to be evil. Suchin really believed that she did.

So, she hadn’t told Nix to leave, even though she was covered in blood that wasn’t hers. Even though she looked like a serial killer sauntering from their own crime scene. Because she was trying, and because she was honest.

There was a bowl of fruit on the table by the time Nix returned to the kitchen. She was wearing what Suchin recognized was the same outfit from a magazine she’d left open on the coffee table. The casual clothing did nothing to soften Nix’s expression, back to the guarded consideration Suchin remembered.

She slid into a chair and began to eat, but her whole body was tense. Like she was waiting for another fight. Suchin settled in the chair next to her, the corner of the table between them.

“Takeda will be happy your back,” she said. Nix blinked. She continued, “He asks if you’re coming back at the end of every week.”

The corner of Nix’s mouth twitched. She swallowed, then cleared her throat. There were dark circles under her eyes, something so tired about her features despite her almost ethereal beauty.

“He’s at school?” she asked.

Suchin nodded and Nix dropped her eyes to the table, to her hands resting flat on its surface. She thought of Kenshi, who had looked like that sometimes, no matter how much he liked fighting. When his inability to see frustrated him, or when the nightmares haunted him. Nix was someone who had been running too fast for too long, only pausing when she barrelled into obstacles.

“Do you ever cry, Nix?”

Her eyes snapped up. She blinked again. “No.”

“ _ Can _ you cry?”

Her brows pinched together as she seemed to give that legitimate thought. After a moment, she did that long, slow exhale again.

“I think so.” She said it the same way she’d said she tried not to be evil.

“Can you love?”

Their eyes met, and there was something gut-wrenching that swam in Nix’s irises. Her expression remained still, but her gaze held the answer.

***

Takeda was every bit excited to see Nix as Suchin had anticipated. The minute he saw her sitting at the kitchen table— where she’d been since their conversation— his face lit up like it was a holiday. He bolted across the kitchen and crashed into her for a full-body hug.

Nix caught him, automatically it seemed. Then Suchin watched how her icy expression changed. It was subtle. Her jaw loosened, the tightness around her eyes eased, the line of her brow smoothed. The best way to describe its wasn’t so much a melt as a… thaw. Suchin gave it time.

“You’re back!” he exclaimed. “How was Tokyo?”

“Uh… bright. Loud. It’s a really big city,” Nix replied, and her voice was warming as well, “made it hard to choose what to get you.”

That finally got Takeda to detach. He was literally bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes wide as he grinned at Nix.

“What did you get me?” he asked.

The corners of her mouth twitched as she stood. Her eyes glowed, purple lightning crawling up her arms as a hole opened in the air right next to her. She plunged her hands inside for a second before reemerging with a large container and a wrapped box.

“Toy or candy first?” Nix asked.

“Toy,” Suchin interrupted. “Save the candy for after dinner.”

Takeda groaned, but it was half-hearted when Nix was already offering up the colorful package. He tore into it with little restraint, eyes widening as he stared at the unfamiliar writing. The child on the package had some sort of headband on and was grinning at floating foam balls.

“What does it say?” he asked.

Nix waved a hand, the words rearranging themselves into Thai even as she explained. “The headband reads your brain activity and communicates with the—” At his blank look, she re-explained. “You, uh, control it with your mind.”

Takeda’s smile could have put the sun to shame. “That’s so cool! Can you show me how to do it?”

“Homework first,” Suchin interjected again.

At his groan, Nix set a hand on top of his head and knelt down to be eye level. “I’ll be around for a couple days at least. There’ll be plenty of time.”

He sighed but didn’t argue, wandering off to his room to get started. Suchin watched Nix for a moment. With Takeda gone, she returned to the silent impassivity that seemed almost habitual, setting the container of candy on the counter. Which was the mask, what she showed to Takeda or what she showed everyone else?

***

That night, as Suchin tucked Takeda into bed, he took her hand in his small one and levelled her with a solemn look.

“Nix isn’t normal,” he said.

Suchin tried not laugh. What had given it away? The short-cropped purple hair and eyes? Her strange accent, like she was never sure what her mother tongue was? The fact that she could tear holes in the air that seemed to lead to other places? Suchin wasn’t even sure his gifts hadn’t just been snatched from an unfortunate vendor in the middle of Tokyo.

“No, she’s not.”

Takeda shook his head, peering up at her in earnest. “But she wants to be.”

Suchin’s brow furrowed. “What makes you say that?”

“Dunno,” he answered with a shrug, “but I know she’s tired and sad deep down, and she likes being around us.”

Takeda had always shown little signs of carrying his father’s gifts. Knowing when someone was coming even if he hadn’t seen or heard them. Answering the occasional unspoken question. She had to wonder how intensely Nix felt these things if Takeda could sense it, untrained and unknowing. It offered a clue to that question Suchin had asked herself earlier.

“I think we should help her,” he continued.

Suchin shook herself out of her thoughts, but hesitated for a moment before answering. “Takeda, I don’t think we can fix her…”

“Not fix her,” he insisted. “She’s not  _ broken _ . I want to help her.”

There were a lot of reasons to say no. Nix was a mercenary. She didn’t seem altogether sane, or even emotionally present. There were powerful, dangerous people after her and she’d openly admitted that she struggled with doing the right thing.

But she’d never done anything remotely threatening in front of them, and it was Takeda asking.

“We’ll see.”

“When Nix says that, she means it,” he informed her.

Suchin frowned a little. “I mean it, too, honey. But I have to keep you safe.”

He grinned. “Nix promised that she’d never let anything happen to me.”

That was a hefty promise to make. Even unaccustomed to kids, Nix had to know that that wasn’t something she could just say. She wasn’t careless with words. 

“What did she say exactly?” Suchin asked. “Do you remember?”

“She said, ‘You’re too young to know the things I would do to make sure you’re safe, even from me’.”

And Nix didn’t lie.

***

Suchin kept an eye on Nix and Takeda’s interactions while she stayed with them. Not because she was worried about him getting hurt, but because his words from that night kept echoing in her head.

“ _ Nix wants to be normal.” _

Looking at it in that light, Suchin began to see it.

When Nix sat on the couch, she tended to leave a cushion of space between herself and whoever was with her. Takeda made a point of cuddling up against her, either under her arm or against her ribs. One night he even fell asleep on her shoulder. Nix always responded with hesitant acceptance, curling an arm around him or leaning her head on top of his, but she seemed content.

Takeda babbled on about school, answering her confused questions when she admitted that she couldn’t remember attending one. For someone like her, Suchin couldn’t imagine that the details were interesting, but it seemed like she was committing his words to memory anyway. And she was always interested.

Finally, the most elucidating moment came when he was doing his homework one day. Takeda was sitting at the low table in front of the TV while Nix sat next to him upon request, legs crossed in front of her and back ramrod straight. Suchin had the entire length of the couch to herself, and split her time between the screen, her computer, and watching the two of them in silence.

“Nix, do you know how to do this?” he asked suddenly. 

He nudged the workbook towards her as she leaned closer, looking over the math he was stuck on.

“Think of grouping,” she said. She waved a hand, and little purple dots of light appeared in the air, arranging themselves into countable clusters. “There are seven groups of three or three groups of seven. It’s the same amount either way.”

“But how much is that?” he asked.

She hummed. “Well, what’s seven plus seven?”

“Fourteen,” he answered instantly.

“That’s the same thing as seven times two. So add seven more to fourteen?”

“Twenty-one.”

Nix nodded. “So now you know seven times three.”

He scribbled the answer down and sighed. “Do I have to memorize all of these?”

“There are tricks to some of them,” she offered. “You just have to find what works for you and stick with it. It gets easier.”

“Am I ever gonna need this?” he demanded in the exasperated tone only a student could have.

Suchin was prepared to confirm that he did, because that seemed like something Nix wouldn’t be sure about, but she was surprised.

“Hell yeah,” Nix answered, with more enthusiasm than she usually expressed. “I still need multiplication even for my job.”

“How?”

That was where she hesitated, glancing at Suchin over her shoulder as she tried to think of an appropriate example.

“Well… if I have four boxes of ammo, and each box has fifty rounds…” Suchin tried not to laugh as Nix continued. “Or if there are twenty-five floors in a building and thirteen rooms on each.”

He groaned. “Okay.”

And that was that.

Helping a child with simple math. It was… so normal.

Nix said she had to leave again three days later, on Sunday night. She told them over dinner, a few hours after she’d helped Takeda with his homework. Suchin was tempted to ask her to stay a few extra days because it seemed good for Takeda, but she knew that Nix would need her support for his inevitable protests.

“I’ll leave in the morning, after you go to school,” she told Takeda.

“Do you have to leave so soon?” he complained.

Her expression pinched with regret. “I left Tokyo in a hurry to come here. I still need to… clean some things up. Then I have to go somewhere new.”

Suchin didn’t let her grimace show. Her careless accident had dragged Nix out of… whatever she’d been doing. Nothing that bore thinking about for too long, given the state she’d been in when she arrived.

“Where will you go after Tokyo?” he asked.

Nix shrugged. “I liked your last idea, so why don’t you give me another?”

Suchin wondered if she was just being nice, or if she really just didn’t care about where she ended up. After a while, all the places and people must had started to blur together since she couldn’t settle anywhere. It was… kind of sad.

Takeda hummed in thought, taking his new job seriously. “Hot or cold?”

“Uh… hot?”

“Dubai.”

“I’ve always liked the architecture there,” Nix remarked. “I’ll find work. Want me to bring you stuff back?”

They were surprised that he didn’t injure something with how enthusiastically he nodded. Nix hid her smile behind her food as she turned back to her meal.

“How long will you be gone this time?” he asked next.

Nix hesitated, eyes drifting to Suchin for an answer. She considered it for a moment, wondering how much time she would need before it was safe for her to return. It didn’t even occur to her that Nix was asking for permission.

“A month?” she asked.

Nix inclined her head. “A month.”

The promise of a return date seemed to set Takeda more at ease and he complained much less than he had the last time. It helped that he was also distracted by her “work clothes.”

The base layer was a fascinating carbon-steel-polyfiber material that was lightweight and durable. Over that, she added the extra pieces, like bulletproof armor and weapon holsters and a mask that covered the lower half of her face. There were laces and buckles everywhere, but she was ready to go in all of two minutes and she admitted that she was taking her time.

“I want a suit like that,” Takeda declared.

“Uh… maybe one day,” Nix replied. “Who knows where life will take you.”

“Is that a  _ whip? _ ”

“I’ll show you when I come back.”

They exchanged hugs before she ruffled his hair with a genuine smile. “Be good for your mom. I’ll be back soon.”

“One month?”

“One month.”

And Nix didn’t lie.


	5. King of the Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gentlemen's agreement and an intense interaction between Earthrealm's defender and our favorite magician.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually don't hate Raiden as much as it seems in this fic. This is filtered through Nix's point of view and she's VERY opinionated about him. For good reason, I think.

**Dark nights are upon us**  
Black magic slays on the chorus  
For the choir's in tune with an angel  
Foresight of the broken chain us  
May her demeanor divide us  
Within sorrow and blindness

*THEN*

_ Another scream ripped from her throat. Weaker now, ragged from shrieking for what felt like hours. Her whole body felt like ice and fire, like someone was peeling the skin from her muscles, and her muscles from her bones. _

_ Shang Tsung was nearby. She could sense it in the back of her pain-addled mind, the swell of his magic as he cast this excruciating spell. Nathan was by her side as always, the steady pressure of his hand around hers offering her only comfort. Why hadn’t she passed out yet? How was she still conscious? It had taken less to knock her out in the past. _

_ “You’re going to kill her!” It was Nathan’s voice, shaking with the type of rage only she could talk him down from. _

_ Her body jerked as another bolt of agony hit her square in the heart, but she grit her teeth against it, swallowed down another shout. It was hard enough on Nathan as it was, unable to offer her more than support against Shang Tsung and his experiments. _

_ “That would be a pity,” Shang Tsung’s even voice replied, “but no great obstacle for me or your uncle.” _

_ “Stop this,” Nathan hissed, “or you will regret it.” _

_ Shang Tsung’s chuckle bounced painfully against the walls of her skull. She clenched her free hand into a fist, squeezed her eyes shut tighter. _

_ “You will make me regret it, boy?” he scoffed. “Do not think you could hope to stand up to me. Not without your sister by your side.” _

_ There was a tense moment of silence, Nathan’s hand tightening like he needed an anchor to keep himself from attacking. Nix struggled to open her mouth, to form a coherent warning. Whatever was happening to her, it would be so much worse for Nathan if he dared to raise a hand against Shang Tsung. _

_ “N-no…” she rasped. _

_ Driven by grief and rage, she was sure that he could do some serious damage to Shang Tsung, but it wouldn’t kill him, and that was the problem. If he survived, he’d be able to get them back, and they already looked over their shoulders enough. They were only fifteen; they weren’t strong enough to beat Shang Tsung alone yet. _

_ “Shang Tsung, what is the meaning of this?” _

_ She had never been so relieved to hear the disapproval in her uncle’s voice. _

_ “Just an experiment,” Shang Tsung replied pleasantly. “I thought you of all people would approve of enhancements to your... investments.” _

_ She sensed Quan Chi sauntering closer, standing by her head where it rested on the hard stone table. _

_ “I prefer to keep these matters within the family,” he intoned. _

_ She sensed his own power spark and then she was enveloped in sweet darkness. _

_ When she woke again, Nathan was sitting at her bedside, his head resting next to their clasped hands. Even while he slept, she could sense his worry like a thick cloud. An ugly bruise was forming on his cheek, the familiar sign of a hard backhand. Who had it been? Shang Tsung or Quan Chi? She swallowed the black murderous pang that surged in her chest. _

_ It wasn’t the first wound he’d borne at either of the sorcerers’ hands. Besides, there was a faint ache throughout her entire body. Nothing more than uncomfortable, but certainly enough to make her hesitate before issuing any threats. _

_ Sighing, she carded her fingers through Nate’s hair, confident that her presence would override his violent automatic startle response. She was proven correct when his eyes flickered open, glowing but not tense. _

_ “How do you feel?” he asked, tilting his head to scrutinize her face. _

_ “I’ve been worse.” She smiled slightly, fingers smoothing his rumpled hair. “Where is our uncle?” _

_ Nate’s lips curled even as he leaned into the familial affection. “He’s not our uncle. Not really. He’s not blood.” _

_ “We’ve always known that,” she replied gently. “Blood isn’t what makes him family. He raised us.” _

_ He snorted. “He’s manipulated us. Shang Tsung described it perfectly. We’re Quan Chi’s  _ investments _ , Nix, nothing more.” _

_ Her shoulders drooped a little as she sighed, her hand falling from his hair to grip his, clenched in the sheets. The helpless frustration on his face was just as familiar as the bruise that decorated it. Life was always unfair in Outworld, in their position, and they’d always known that but some days it just weighed too much. _

_ “He stole us from our world, trapped us here and put us through hell to make us his living weapons,” he continued, baring his teeth. “The only reason he hasn’t killed us and brought us back is that he’s not sure it would work properly.” _

_ Nix knew it was true... to an extent. Quan Chi allowed his guard to slip around her more often, and so she caught more of his thoughts and emotions than Nathan did. He’d thought of bringing them back as Spectres or Wraiths or Revenants the most when they’d first hit puberty, to make them easier to control. However, assuming that the spell had worked correctly, their undead biology would have halted growth into adulthood. _

_ Those thoughts had been decreasing lately, though. They’d been behaving better— or at least Nix had and she’d been keeping Nate in check. The only times it reoccurred to him was when they failed assignments or lost badly in training exercises. He’d even begun appreciating their talents more, both individual and as a team. _

_ “Dwelling on it won’t change anything,” Nix reminded him, “so let’s figure out what we want and how to get it, yeah?” _

_ Nate frowned, eyes flitting away as he turned it over in his mind. Nix watched him patiently, waiting for the idea to stick so they could start planning. As she waited, she pushed the sheet down, taking inventory of her body. There was something new lurking in her body. Despite the residual soreness, her muscles felt… different. _

_ She tucked those thoughts away as he met her gaze again. _

_ “I want us to be free,” he said. “I’m sick of Outworld and Quan Chi.” _

_ Nix nodded. She was sick of it all too. Getting away from their uncle and the world they’d been raised in sounded like the start of a good life. One they could live on their own terms. _

_ “Me too,” she agreed. “Earthrealm?” At his nod, she continued. “We’ll never get there on a whim. Even if we made the portal and got there, we could be tracked.” _

_ He frowned, scooted over so she could sit next to him with her legs hanging over the side of the bed. She reached for the glass of water on the bedside table, chugged while Nate continued puzzling out their plan. _

_ “So we need more training and we need an opportunity to get to Earthrealm. That might give us a head start,” he mused. _

_ “We need his trust if we want an opportunity like that. He’s not going to send us unless he’s sure that we’ll come back— and be successful, for that matter.” _

_ Nate’s expression screwed up with irritation. “How do we get his trust? He’s paranoid.” _

_ Nix snorted softly. “We do as he asks, no matter what it is. We meet his expectations by whatever means necessary.” She shrugged. “We become the weapons he wants us to be.” _

_ He grunted in irritation, scrunching his face up. “Why?” _

_ “Because there’s no other way to get him trust us,” she explained. “I know you hate it, and it’ll take a while, but it’ll be worth it.” _

_ He sighed in resignation and leaned his shoulder into hers. “If you say so. I’ll watch your back if you watch mine.” _

_ She shot him a wide smile. They were becoming rare, but she could always summon one for her twin. _

_ “Us against the world. Always.” _

*NOW*

There was a wall of windows in the living room of Nathan’s penthouse. It overlooked the whole of the city he all but owned, a perfect view of the kingdom he’d built for himself. Well, part of his kingdom. And he hadn’t built it  _ all  _ by himself, but he resented the parts he had. It wasn’t supposed to be that way.

He shut his eyes against the memory, even as his hand drifted to the scar that twisted across his mouth. It still burned sometimes. Did hers burn too? He hoped it did, if only so she wouldn’t forget him.

There was a sharp knock at the door. With a lazy flick of his wrist, it swung open, revealing one of his more useful lackeys. Nathan didn’t remember the man’s name— if he’d ever bothered to learn it in the first place. That had always been more Nix’s forte than his.

“What is it?” he asked.

“A call for you, sir,” the man replied, holding out a cellphone. “Kano from the Black Dragon.”

Arching an eyebrow, Nathan accepted the device and held it to his ear. The lackey took several steps back to offer privacy, but still on hand for orders. Huh, he actually seemed competent. Maybe he’d get a raise. So hard to keep up with an empire meant for two.

“Well, this is a surprise,” he drawled into the speaker.

“Long time, no see, Green-bean.”

Nathan curled his lip and slid his free hand into the pocket of his trousers. “And it’ll stay that way if you want to survive.”

Kano’s chuckle was unpleasant on the other end. Nathan’s fingers curled, reminiscing about how it felt to dig them between flesh and metal plating.

“Yeah, you’re a bit unhinged since that sister of yours bailed, I hear.”

Nathan didn’t deign to respond to that. Just waited. There was a reason that Kano was risking a call to him after their last interaction. He was just intrigued enough to find out why.

“Speaking of your better half,” he continued cheerfully and Nathan hummed for him to continue, heart squeezing. “She’s taken a page from your book.”

He grinned to himself. “How so?”

“Before I tell you, I want to make sure we have a professional understanding. A gentlemen’s agreement, you could call it.”

Nathan snorted. “You’re not a gentleman.” When Kano made a noncommittal noise, he rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

“If I tell you where your sister is, you’ll stop her from dismantling my whole operation out of spite.”

Nathan arched an eyebrow in disbelief. Of all the beings they’d come into contact with while under Quan Chi’s thumb, Kano had always been the one Nix hated most. After their last meeting, Nix had promised to kill Kano if he ever made the mistake of running into her again. And she had a nasty habit of keeping her promises. That said, Nix wasn’t interested in seeking out trouble for trouble’s sake. If she was on a rampage, it was because she’d been provoked.

“What did you do to her?”

He could practically hear Kano sneering. “I didn’t do a bloody thing. My men pissed her off while I was busy elsewhere.”

Nathan snorted. “So instead of taking care of your own shit, you want me to fix things for you? And this involves pissing off my already-homicidal twin?”

There was a beat of silence. “Yeah.”

“Where is she?”

“Tokyo, Japan.”

“Oh, that was  _ her _ ?” Nathan laughed. “Your guys really fucked that one with no lube.”

Kano rejoined with a couple choice curses as Nathan smirked to himself. So Nix was having fun in Japan? Must be visiting their old Yakuza contacts. How friendly.

“I’ll give her a distraction, but you owe me,” he allowed.

Kano scoffed. “I paid you back by telling her where she is.”

“You really want to debate debts with  _ me? _ ” he challenged.

In answer, the line went dead. Nathan handed the phone back to the lackey.

“Contact our men in Tokyo. I have a task for them.”

***

Nix dragged a hand through her hair and tried not to sneer. As much as Raiden irritated her on a few levels, she wasn’t in the mood to throw down with him. She’d only left Suchin and Takeda a few days earlier and the thought of getting violent with a god who was basically good (if misguided and generally kind of useless) left a bad taste in her mouth.

“I know that you are appalled by the atrocities you committed in Quan Chi’s name. Serving Earthrealm might offer you a chance at the redemption you are seeking.”

She snorted, couldn’t resist the twitch of her mouth that threatened to bear her teeth. He had no idea what he was talking about. Yes, she hated the things she’d done for her uncle, and Raiden didn’t even know the half of it. At best, he’d seen the aftermath of her carnage, but he’d never seen them in the moment. Not like she had. 

What he didn’t get was that she’d been trained to feel nothing about those things. And even when Nix could break through that conditioning, she knew there was no forgiveness for the things she’d done. She didn’t want it. Doing “good” wouldn’t make up for her sins, nor would dwelling on it all sad and mopey.

“I’m not one of your soldiers of light, Raiden,” she drawled, “and I’m done  _ serving _ .”

The flash of regret in his expression was enough indication that he recognized his poor word choice. She rolled her eyes and continued loading her gun.

“You came to Earthrealm seeking asylum. The least you could do is protect it in return,” he insisted.

Round and round with this conversation.

“I already fought one war for Earthrealm. Be satisfied with peace, thunder god.” She scrunched her nose at her lapse into Outworld-speak. It was the way she’d spoken for her uncle, over-articulated and formal.

“The forces of darkness are not satisfied with peace. Neither can I until Earthrealm is finally safe.”

She sighed and planted her palms flat on the table between them, leaned forward to pierce him with her gaze. The mostly-loaded gun lay abandoned on the table, loose rounds rolling and clinking across its surface. 

“Do you even realize what you’re asking me?” she demanded. “If you’re so worried, put yourself on the frontlines and leave me out of it.”

Surprise, surprise, he didn’t seem too thrilled with that idea. No widening of eyes because he hadn’t thought of it himself and she’d just provided a brilliant solution to his plight.

“I alone am not sufficient, and my powers are weakened in Outworld, whereas yours are unaffected. We need your skills.”

She ran her tongue over her teeth and inhaled, minding her temper.

“You don’t seem to understand what will happen if Quan Chi gets ahold of me again.” She fought to keep her voice even and low, but there was a vicious edge to it. “Let’s take what I’ll go through out of it, since you don’t seem to care about that. Just a heads up that it would include torture like you’ve never seen before, but whatever, right?”

Raiden shifted and crossed his arms, eyes narrowing, but she plowed ahead. Best to talk while she had the chance, since he was prone to flowery lectures and self-righteous speeches.

“If I get captured or killed— both of which are very likely given the track record of Earthrealm defenders— it’s not just a painful situation for me. He’ll twist me to his will and I won’t be able to rebel or undermine or even use restraint.”

Okay, so she was fibbing a little about the dying bit. Thanks to Shang Tsung and Quan Chi, she couldn’t die, but either one of them would make her wish for it. Nor would it stop them from enslaving her. The end result would be the same, dead or not, so there was no point in explaining it to Raiden.

His expression loosened a little, softened as he realized what she warning him against. Fucking finally. She rolled her shoulders to work out some of the tension and straightened, crossing her arms in a mirror of him.

“I would not allow that to happen,” he began, but she shook her head.

“Lemme stop you right there,” she all but growled. “No offense, but your protection is all but worthless, especially in Outworld where your ‘powers are weak’. Nevermind that you’ve already tried to offer up the souls of your own people before.”

He flinched back. “How did you…?”

There was no vindictive pleasure in having that knowledge, or in shocking him with it. Clenching her jaw, she glanced away to give him a chance to collect himself. A silent reminder that she could be decent when she wanted to be. Nix hated when he made her out to be more of a villain than she was.

True, she wasn’t a good person. Not inherently nice or kind or noble, but she wasn’t nearly as bad as he wanted to pretend. He’d never seen her at her worst, after all. That last Mortal Kombat tournament didn’t count.

“Look, I get that difficult choices have to be made more than anyone,” she said. “Lesser of two evils and all. Whatever. The thing is, I have the right to do that for myself too. And as far as I’m concerned, I can’t trust you to protect me, especially if it came down to me or anyone else on your team.”

His head tilted forward, the edge of his hat obstructing everything but the frown on his face, but it wasn’t in agreement. Out of politeness, she kept a wall up between her enhanced perceptions and his emotions. She didn’t want to know whatever Raiden was feeling. She was sure it was a little too self-deprecating for her tastes.

“I’m doing you a favor here,” she tried to assure him. “As dangerous as your friends are as Revenants, I’d become something else entirely. And then my brother would help me, brainwashed or not.”

Raiden held up a hand and Nix obliged to stop talking, letting her words sink in. His shoulders were a little lower than they had been when he’d teleported into her hotel room. She popped the magazine into her gun and tucked it into the holster strapped to her thigh.

“I had thought you had grown these past years. Moved past the resentment and callousness your uncle instilled in you,” he said finally. “Clearly I was mistaken.”

She  _ tsked. _ “I had thought guilt-trips were beneath gods. We’ve both been disappointed. I guess it takes more than a few years to forget a lifetime of abuse and conditioning. Who would have thought?”

She shrugged and tugged her gloves on, paused to pinch the bridge of her nose against a fatigue-induced headache. She’d only been sleeping a few hours at a time in the hopes of staving off the paranoid dreams about Suchin and Takeda. It hadn’t been working.

“Phoenix.” She shot him a sharp look, and he quickly corrected himself. “Nix. You can heal from that trauma.”

She hissed out a breath. “I’m  _ trying _ ,” she snapped, “but you just want another soldier.”

Finished with the conversation, she opened a portal and stepped through. A gun greeted her on the other side, but she’d take that over Raiden.

“Nix?” the man threatening her asked. She arched an eyebrow. “Your brother would like a word.”


	6. Hold Me Tight or Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix finds something she never thought she'd have.
> 
> Takeda doesn't give her much choice.

Nix continued to visit Suchin and Takeda.

Every month on the dot, she stopped in for at least three days to check-in and rest. At first she was hesitant, ambushed by unfamiliar guilt because she felt like she was using them to get a taste of something she could never have. To make up for it, she doubled her precautions and helped out around the house however she could.

On her sixth visit, though, she was hit with the intense feeling that she was crossing a line she couldn’t come back from. Not a bad one, necessarily, but the kind that would compromise her later on. She pulled Suchin aside one night after Takeda had gone to bed and offered information without being asked for the first time.

“My brother is two steps short of insane, and he’s holding a… grudge against me,” she explained, staring at the sky from the front porch. The sky was one of her favorite parts of leaving Outworld. “My uncle is slightly more stable, but also more callous. They’re both powerful and… I don’t know what would happen if they found you one day.”

Suchin remained silent as she listened, her features open and receptive. Nix could sense that it was more than just her expression. It was unnerving at times. Disarming. When Suchin looked at her like that, it made Nix want to spill everything. Thank whatever actually ran the universe that she had self control.

“The more time I spend here, the more you two mean to me, the more likely it is that they’ll hurt you just to get at me,” she admitted, wincing. “Maybe it’s time I started decreasing my visits. Stop altogether eventually.”

There was a beat of silence. Nix’s heart was beating faster than it had in a long time, but her hands were still steady. At least, she thought they were still steady. She wasn’t about to lift them to find out.

Finally, Suchin placed her cool, soft palm on Nix’s forearm. Nothing came through, no thoughts or emotions. Nix made a point of giving her and Takeda that privacy.

“I think that if we’re starting to really mean something to you,” she began slowly, “then you should visit us more often.”

Nix’s head snapped to the side so fast that her neck twinged. Suchin just smiled and squeezed.

“You need good people in your life, Nix,” she continued, “and we need you in ours. Takeda needs another adult presence in his life, and he looks up to you.”

Nix tried to speak, to come up with some sort of coherent response. Preferably some way to dissuade Suchin from such a reckless line of thinking. How could a bounty hunter be a positive role model? All that came out were stuttered monosyllables because she was too damn touched to be objective like she should have been

“But… but it’s  _ dangerous _ ,” she managed. “Your  _ son...” _

Suchin straightened up a little, wearing the same expression from when Nix had returned the second time, covered in blood and soot and been told to shower.

“You promised that you’d protect him, didn’t you?” she demanded.

Reluctant and not sure why, Nix swallowed and nodded. Why did she feel like she was about to get caught in a trap she couldn’t see?

Suchin was relentless. “You’d do anything to keep him safe, wouldn’t you?” When she received another nod, she leaned her shoulder into Nix’s. “Then do that. Protect us, and teach us how to protect ourselves. But don’t leave us when we already mean something to you. That just puts us in more danger.”

Nix sighed. She shouldn’t have gotten so close to them in the first place, but Takeda had made that kind of impossible. No point in agonizing over it; too late for angsting. Suchin was right.

“Alright,” she said.

Suchin smiled. “I knew you’d see reason.”

“How could I not?” she replied dryly.

So, Nix kept visiting.

She started staying for a week at a time, and even rented a safehouse in the next town over. Not that she ever went there, except to check that the spells and precautions protecting it were still active. It was just a contingency, in case she needed a change of clothes or they needed somewhere to hide. 

Takeda seemed thrilled by the change in schedule, counting down the days before the next visit before she’d even left. He was even more ecstatic when she acquired him a special cellphone and began calling when she wasn’t around. The continued contact made it slightly more difficult to do her job in good conscience, but she faked a serious injury that allowed her to take fewer contracts without raising suspicion.

Despite the added complexity to her life, spending a quarter of her time with Suchin and Takeda was… helping. The times she woke up in a shaking cold sweat decreased in frequency and intensity. The flashbacks to her childhood stopped gripping her the minute her mind was idle. The restless, near-violent energy found a safe outlet in keeping up with Takeda or doing chores around the house, until it wasn’t restless or violent anymore.

In keeping her promise to protect them, she started teaching Takeda basic survival. Nothing like she learned as a child, but enough to keep him alive and healthy in case she couldn’t get to him right away for some reason. Basic self-defense and hiding techniques, weak points that he could exploit with hands or (worst case scenario) weapons.

She also encouraged his budding telepathic powers.

“From his father?” she’d asked on her third visit, when she’d finally recognized it.

“Yes. Takeda hasn’t realized he’s different yet.”

Nix had shrugged. “The ability will stay with him forever but without training it would be difficult for him to master it later on.”

“Training?” Suchin had asked, arching an eyebrow.

Nix had shook her head. “Nothing serious, of course. Just getting him to listen and pay attention until he’s hit puberty. By then, he’ll probably have figured it out and if not, he’ll find out then.”

Suchin had nodded her permission and Nix had proceeded to prod at his powers every once in a while, to foster their development. He didn’t seem to mind and she never did more than discreetly direct.

Suchin learned a more rigorous set of lessons, a mix of offense and defense that was more focused on eliminating a threat than just avoiding it. Nix was intensely careful about not pushing too hard, about keeping her teaching gentle. Suchin seemed amused by it, but never tried to provoke her into something more arduous.

In return, they taught Nix to be… someone else. No, not someone else. A better version of herself, the version she’d never thought would see the light of day. Suchin and Takeda weren’t as subtle as they thought, but Nix had no defenses against them either. Not that she wanted any.

“Hey, Nix?” Takeda said one morning. She hummed and arched an eyebrow to let him know she was listening. “Will you make me something?”

“Make you something?” she parroted. “What do you want?”

“Dinner,” he chirped. Nix blinked.

She’d been expecting him to ask for… she didn’t even know what. Not food. Takeda was well aware of her powers and had a habit of asking her to use them for his amusement. She humored him because it felt good to use them for something other than… what she usually used them for.

“Will you make something from whatever country you’re from?” And then because his mind and mouth were always running at a thousand miles per hour, “Where  _ are _ you from, anyway?”

She grimaced. “That’s… a complicated question. For now, let’s just say I’m from the United States. You want American food?”

“Yeah!”

“Your mom is half-American,” she reminded, “and I know she makes you stuff all the time.”

“But I want  _ you _ to make it.”

Nix wasn’t an experienced cook. What she was experienced at was following directions. Suchin pointed and Nix cut food with her expert knife skills, or stirred simmering pots, or poured steaming noodles into a strainer. That was about as much culinary understanding as she had. But Takeda was asking and looked so excited and, well…

“Is there anything specific you want? Burgers? Barbeque?” She racked her brain for something “American.” Difficult, for a number of reasons. “Uh… Seafood? Creole?”

“Burgers!”

She huffed in relief that it was something easy. Burgers were easy… right?

“And chocolate chip cookies too, please?”

Luckily, Suchin was more than happy to help her and Takeda was thrilled with all of it. That night, the three of them curled on the couch and watched an American film together.

And slowly, happily, Nix began to settle in.

*THEN*

_ Skarlet reeled as the unexpected punch connected. She stumbled back and leaned against the wall for support, head spinning as Phoenix rounded the blind corner that had been meant for an ambush. Her hair was woven in complex braids and she wore her usual finery, skirts flowing and jewelry draped around her. How nice it must have been, to be the Arch-Sorcerer’s niece. _

_ “You seem confused, Skarlet,” she intoned, voice even and serene. “Training was this morning.” _

_ Skarlet narrowed her eyes and pushed away from the wall, prowling closer. Phoenix didn’t move beyond a curious tilt of her head. _

_ “What can I say?” Skarlet replied, “I couldn’t wait for another taste of your blood.” _

_ Phoenix’s cool mask slipped a little. It was subtle. A tightening around her eyes. A twitch in her mouth and nose like she wanted to snarl. Oh, how she hated the magic Skarlet wielded. Hated how strong it made her. Stronger than what her uncle taught her, than what he  _ trusted _ her with. _

_ What she didn’t understand was that Skarlet’s strength didn’t just come from the blood she manipulated. It came from struggling and suffering and clawing her way into her position. The magic only bolstered what lay beneath, and Phoenix hated that she had no such foundation for her own abilities. _

_ Skarlet took such great pleasure in exploiting it at every opportunity. Phoenix’s eyes weren’t glowing yet, though. _

_ “As I recall, it was your blood that was spilled today.” _

_ The corner of Phoenix’s mouth ticked up, insufferably smug. Earlier that day, she had achieved unprecedented victory over Skarlet. Whatever Shang Tsung had done to her a few days earlier— something so serious that Quan Chi had been visibly vexed— it had made her stronger, faster, more durable. Skarlet hadn’t expected it, and she was determined to prove that it was the only reason Phoenix had won. _

_ “And I will be sure to repay you in full right now,” she growled. _

_ Phoenix’s eyes narrowed, just starting to brighten. “Your obsession with my blood is becoming inconvenient. Why don’t you try this with my brother? I’m sure he’d love the company.” _

_ Skarlet sucked her teeth, feigning disinterest. In truth, as formidable as Phoenix had suddenly become, it was Nathan who was frightening. While the former exercised restraint and patience, he had a tendency of wrecking any opponent in his path as quickly and viciously as possible. _

_ He’d nearly killed Jade in the same session that very morning. One mistake, and he would tear Skarlet apart without hesitation or fear of reparation. She’d rather take her chances with his twin. _

_ “Why would I bother with him when beating you is so much sweeter?” she purred. _

_ Phoenix snorted. “Amusing as that is, I have duties to attend to for my uncle. I don’t have time to play games with you.” _

_ Skarlet smirked and took a step closer, a dagger forming in her hand. “Who said anything about games.” _

_ She attacked without further warning, slashing quick as a snake’s strike. They danced around each other for several moments, Phoenix’s movements hindered by the long skirts swishing around her legs despite the slits high in the thighs. She was unarmed, unarmored, and unprepared for a serious battle. _

_ Victory was assured. _

_ Her eyes finally lit up, glowing violet just as Skarlet lunged again. The blade slid across her arm, a crimson smear darkening her sleeve and glinting off the knife. It was the last move Skarlet was able to make as a green flash of energy threw her back. _

_ Nathan melted out from the shadows behind Phoenix and surged forward. An arm shot to the side, barring him from attack. _

_ “Nate.” _

_ He glared, but relaxed slightly. Brought to heel by his own sister. How precious. Skarlet lapped at the blood on the edge of her knife, mouth curling into a vicious smile. _

_ “Happy Birthday, twins,” she purred, “and may you have many more.” _

***

“Happy birthday!”

Takeda shouted with delight as Nix scooped him up, fingers digging gently into his sides to make him laugh. Sure that she wouldn’t drop him, he wriggled around and curled his arms around her neck in a strangling hug. It made her smile, teeth peeking out in honest delight at his reaction.

“You’re early!”

Takeda’s birthday fell right between her usual visits to him and Suchin. In the middle of a job, she’d apologized over the phone that she couldn’t be there on the actual day. Takeda had been understanding if disappointed when she promised that they’d celebrate again when she came at her scheduled time.

As it was, his voice over the phone had haunted her like nothing else and she’d wrapped things up in Dhaka early.

“Of course,” she replied, kissing his cheek. “Anything for my little superhero.”

Suchin was covering her mouth as she peeked at them from the kitchen, eyes misty with tears, and Nix winked at her. She’d surprised them both. As she set him down again, she ruffled his hair.

“Go on and finish getting ready,” she encouraged. “I’m going to help your mom in the kitchen.”

Takeda bounced off down the hall, a huge grin plastered on his face. Suchin crossed her arms as Nix approached, but she wasn’t good at hiding her smiles.

“He would have understood,” she said, “and so would I.”

Nix inclined her head, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her pants. “I know… but my life here is more important than anything else in the world.”

Suchin surged forward and it said something that Nix didn’t even tense, just accepted the crushing hug around her middle. She wrapped her arms around Suchin’s shoulders in return, pretended not to notice the quiet sniffling.

“I know it’s safe because you wouldn’t put us in danger,” she mumbled into Nix’s shoulder, “but you were careful, right?”

“Always,” she answered. “I pulled some strings and cashed in a small favor. I wanted him to have a good birthday. We didn’t even celebrate them where I grew up.”

Suchin hummed. “Then come try the icing for his cake.”

Later that night, Nix presented Takeda with the last of the (several) presents she’d brought him. It was a necklace on a nigh-indestructible chain. The silver pendant that hung from it was carved with symbols and inlaid with a single small purple gem.

“I figured it was time you had your own, just in case,” she explained as he pulled it over his head.

He glanced up at her, eyes wide. “Do I have to… y’know…?”

“Use blood? No.” She huffed with amusement. “You hold it in your palm and think about me to get ideas across. The more you focus, the more I’ll understand.”

“So if I need you, I just think ‘help’ real hard and you’ll know it?” he asked.

She nodded. “It’s a little different than your mom’s, but in an emergency I’ll get the message and come.”

He shifted a little, glanced not-so-subtly at a scar on her shoulder, visible from the collar of her shirt. He thumbed at the pendant. Not enough to activate it, yet, but enough to be noticed.

“What if you can’t?”

“The only way I  _ couldn’t _ would be if I’m dead.” He made an alarmed noise and she winced. Right. As mature and cool as he could be for his age, he was still a kid. “And I promise that’s impossible.”

“Really? How?” he inquired, eyes bright with curiosity.

Nix shook her head. She’d already made one misstep. Telling him  _ that  _ story would just upset him, and she wasn’t about to do that on his birthday.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “The point is that I’ll always come for you eventually. At worst, something holds me up, but I’d do anything and everything to get to you as soon as possible.”

He nodded and faced forward again; Nix followed suit. No matter how old he got, she didn’t think he’d ever understand the depth of what that promise meant. She just hoped that he never told anyone else about it.

“Hey, Nix?”

“Hmm?”

“I love all the presents you got me today, but can I ask for one more?”

She laughed and glanced back down at him. “Sure, kiddo. What do you want?”

His mouth twisted a little. Nervous. That was unusual. Takeda wasn’t the nervous type, at least not around her.

“Can mom and I be part of your family?”

He… he wanted to…

Nix had taken some hard hits but none had ever knocked the wind out of her quite like that. She inhaled, cobbled her stunned thoughts together so she wouldn’t leave Takeda waiting.

“You don’t want to be part of my family, bud,” she managed, ducking her head. “None of them are good people, and bad things happen to us.”

“Oh…” He didn’t sound discouraged, at least. But this was Takeda. He could be as stubborn as his mother when he set his mind on something. “Then you should be part of ours.”

Nix swallowed thickly, eyes feeling wet. “You sure about that?”

“I’ll trade back all my other birthday gifts,” he offered and she laughed a little.

“You don’t need to, Takeda. I’ll… I’ll be part of your family.”

It was his biggest, brightest smile yet. “Then how do I say ‘mom’ where you’re from?”


	7. What's Up Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takeda's take on all this business

Having two moms was kind of the best.

In secret, sad moments, Takeda had wished for his dad. But that had been before, the fruitless hope of a six-year-old. Blinded by the families he’d seen at school and on TV. By seven, he’d decided that his mom was more than enough. She was strong and smart and took care of him, which was more than his father had ever done, and who needed dads anyway? Not Takeda, that was for sure.

Then Nix had come along.

She was strong and smart too, but she was different from his mom. She was quieter. “Stoic” and “closed off” were the words mom had used at first. Takeda hadn’t thought so, though. Nix communicated and responded… she just did it different from everybody else.

He could always tell that she was listening to him where other adults (except his mom) just nodded along or outright ignored him. Not just because she looked at him, but even when her eyes were elsewhere, she’d prompt him to continue if he trailed off mid-sentence. She’d been like that those first two weeks they’d met, and she’d never stopped. Never got tired or bored of being his friend.

He knew his mom was worried at first because Nix came home with bruised knuckles and stains on her clothes and carried weapons in the house. But Takeda knew she was good, that she just had a hard time knowing it. Nix needed them in her life to show her that, just like they needed her for other stuff, and just like Takeda  _ didn’t _ need his dad for anything.

The more she visited, the more she settled into their lives. He could tell his mom started to trust her, started to love her the way he already did and Nix returned it. When mom touched Nix’s shoulder, or they talked with their eyes when they thought he wasn’t looking. The time Nix let his mom cut her hair and Nix stayed silent and still but only because she was relaxed and she winked at Takeda when he peeked over the back of the couch.

Sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night and heard them talking. The few times he climbed out of bed to check on them, they were sitting on the couch or at the kitchen table with tea and no space between them. Once, Nix was even leaning her head on him mom’s shoulder.

One day they were speaking to each other in the kitchen. He was sitting on the couch watching TV on low, and they didn’t know he could hear him.

“Where’s his father?” Nix asked. It had been her sixth visit and even though she’d still smiled for them and only them, she’d frowned a little deeper than usual too.

“I’m not sure. He doesn’t know about Takeda. I found out I was pregnant after he’d gone,” mom explained. “It’s for the better.”

Nix had made the curious humming sound that meant you could keep talking, but you didn’t have to if you didn’t want to. Mom kept talking.

“Kenshi would have felt obligated to stay, I think. He would have been a decent father, but he wasn’t ready for it and didn’t want it. He would have gotten antsy, chafed at being domestic. This way, everyone’s happy.”

Nix made another noise. The unimpressed, displeased one when she got calls from people she didn’t like or heard that one of his teachers was being unfair. Mom laughed quietly in response. Nix must have made a face. They played a game trying to spot her different frowny faces.

“What?” mom asked.

“That just sounds familiar,” Nix replied. “Let me guess— he was a warrior and wasn’t ready to settle down. Wanted to keep finding and beating opponents or something similar?”

He could only guess that his mom nodded, because Nix made another irate sound.

“Stupid bastard.”

And if it was possible, she went up a 1000% more in Takeda’s estimation.

After that visit, Nix seemed to relax more. The next one was longer and calmer and Nix helped him learn how to ride a bike. Whenever he fell, she’d haul him up and check him for injuries. His mom wiped his tears and encouraged him while Nix healed his scrapes and bruises and adjusted his helmet.

They started going on picnics in the field where they’d first found her. They’d lay a blanket out in the grass and sit together, talking and eating and enjoying the good weather when they could. The three of them played games a few feet away, or he’d sometimes fly a kite while one of them napped on the blanket, or watched and took pictures.

When he got sick, Nix helped him cool off with a wet cloth, or helped his mom make soup and tea. She sat by his bedside and told him stories from her travels or soothed his cough so he could rest. When he needed vaccinations, she went into the doctor with him and got them as well, distracted him from the anticipation and let him squeeze her hand along with his mom’s.

She picked him up from school when she got back from her travels and always had little gifts to give him. Usually food or candy of some kind, and then a toy or trinket that was boxed and wrapped. It was like his friends who had a parent working overseas. Except it was another mom and she could teleport to him when he needed it.

He never abused the necklace she gave him, but when he missed her and couldn’t call, he held it and thought about her. Nix told him on her next visit that she’d felt it, that she missed him too and it had helped her get out of a difficult situation. Takeda made sure to send her a little thought everyday after that, always right before bed at the very least.

He hadn’t expected to get another mom, but Nix took care of them. She always visited on time, and made exceptions for holidays and special occasions, like his birthday. His mom was happier than he’d ever seen her, always most when Nix came home uninjured. 

He felt lucky and special, loved by the two strongest and smartest people in the world. They were a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am... so sorry for what's going to happen in a few chapters.


	8. Bad Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end.

**I've laid in here for the longest time**   
** The deadliest choir chimes**   
** for my awakening**

*THEN*

_ In any other situation, she would be indifferent. She would have schooled her features into a cool, flat mask and handled the aggression. _

_ In any other situation, the fight wouldn’t have made it past a few angry blows and exchanged quips. There wouldn’t be blood and destruction, more bodies caught in the collateral than if they’d sought out casualties on purpose. She wouldn’t be panting ragged, desperate breaths and trying to see past the tears in her eyes. _

_ In any other situation… her opponent wouldn’t be her twin brother. _

_ “How could you do this to me?!” _

_ She threw up a barrier against the magic that lashed out at her, green energy sparking and flying in all directions. _

_ “You started this!” she shouted back, retaliating in kind. He met her move for move, blow for blow. As exhausted and injured as she was, so was he. “I could have just left!” _

_ “You said it was us against the world. Always. You’re abandoning me!” _

_ Even through the rage, she could hear the pain lacing his words and it tore at her. Guilt and frustration and regret that it had to come to this. That after everything, all the shit their uncle had put them through together, they’ve turned on each other _.

_ “You don’t need me anymore! We don’t want the same things!” _

_ His response was a wordless yell and another blast of energy. She threw up another shield, but her resolve was weakening, her stamina fading. It faltered for a split second, but that was enough. She shouted as magic-infused electricity coursed through her body, muscles convulsing and throwing her back onto a bed of shrapnel and glass shards. _

_ She cried out, dazed and injured, but hurt more by the fact that he’d done it at all. Her eyes glowed as she stumbled to her feet, temper slipping. Her vision went hazy as the rage welled and gripped at her, dragged her down. They’d used it against their enemies for years, but it was the first time it was turning on Nathan. _

_ Violet magic gathered and burst, one hard attack that cracked straight through the barrier he tried to protect himself with. It lessened the blow some, but not enough. His eyes went wide with fear right before he flew back, just as she had moments earlier. He wasn’t as quick to get up. _

_ Nix snapped out of it, the red-black haze fading from her vision. A sob caught in her throat as the reality of what she’d tried to do set in. That could have killed him. Oh gods… had it? No… no it couldn’t have. Their uncle had seen to that, hadn’t he? _

_ She staggered to his fallen body, relief flooding nonetheless her when she confirmed that he was alive and (barely) conscious. If he’d been just a millisecond slower… _

_ “Nathan,” she gasped, “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… gods, I’m _ sorry _ .” _

_ There was blood coating his mouth, dripping down his jaw and pooling on his neck. Somewhere beneath it all there was an injury, but she couldn’t see how serious it was. Where it started or where it ended or how deep it went. There was just blood, just her mistakes. Her rage turned on the person she loved most. _

_ She reached for him. They’d agreed not to use their uncle’s way of healing, but this was important. This was serious. _

_ His eyes shot open before she could make contact. A flash of green obscured her vision, just as fire blazed a painful path across her face. She yelped and fell back, had a terrifying moment of blindness before her tears washed away the blood spatter. _

_ When she could focus again, she met Nathan’s eyes and read her own emotions reflected back. Betrayal, anger, pain. There would be no coming back from this. _

*NOW*

He was looking for her.

Nix’s eyes snapped open, unseeing as she gasped. The air caught in her chest, the sharp jab of remembered pain in her lungs. She flailed against an expected attack, legs tangled in fabric and she rolled, landed hard on a wooden floor. Where was she? Where was _ he? _

“Nix? Nix.” The voice was familiar but she couldn’t recognize it. “Phoenix. Calm down. You’re alright.”

Someone touched her arm. Worry and love flooded in, thoughts with sleep clinging to the edges. It shocked her into reality, interrupted the panic and confusion gripping her. Nix blinked; the nightstand light flickered to life and confirmed that it was Suchin kneeling by her side. Right, Thailand. Her family.

Nix sighed and let the tension drain from her body as she sat up, her hand covering Suchin’s.

“You haven’t had one of those in a while,” she remarked, even and gentle. “Are you alright?”

Nix nodded, breath shaky. She tilted her head up and offered an uneven smile. Suchin returned it, but Nix could see in her eyes that she wasn’t convinced. They sat in silence for a second before Nix sensed Takeda creeping down the hall. They were already looking at the door when he peeked his head around the frame, sleepy-faced.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“She just had a bad dream,” Suchin answered.

Takeda padded into the room, crawled into Nix’s lap and curled up with his head tucked under her chin. She curled her arms around him, hugged like he was a living teddy bear as he dozed off. Satisfied that she wouldn’t be alone, Suchin stood and went to the kitchen. She returned with a glass of water and a cool cloth for Nix’s head.

“Mom?” They both glanced down, but Takeda had said it in the version of English Nix had learned as a child. “What do you dream about?”

Nix sighed and ran a soothing hand over his hair.

“Well, the good ones are always about you and your mom,” she answered.

“And the bad ones?”

“My side of the family.” The last image from her dream surged forward before she could suppress it. The blood and pain and destruction. It had taken her a month to recover from that fight. Slow because the energy expenditure had nearly gotten her caught by Quan Chi.

She shook it off and kissed the top of Takeda’s head. “My brother and my uncle.”

He pressed himself closer. “Will I ever meet _ my _ uncle?”

She grimaced. “Not if I do my job right.”

***

The next morning, she announced with intense regret that she had to leave ahead of schedule. It was only a day early, but those lost hours hit her hard. She got so little time with them and to have it cut short… but no, it was more important to keep them safe. To keep Nathan from knowing.

“I’m not sure when I’ll come back,” she said. “If everything goes well… I’ll come home at the usual time.”

The unspoken “if not” hung in the air. If she didn’t come back when she was supposed to, it was because she physically couldn’t— injured or incarcerated or even both. The likelihood of that was unnervingly high where Nathan was involved. She didn’t say that.

It was Takeda who broke the silence again.

“Where are you going this time?”

She hesitated. “I’ll have to move around a lot this time. Want to give me a starting point?”

He hummed. “You could start in Madrid and then go east until Moscow.”

She hummed. “The train system there is really nice. Sounds like a plan.”

When breakfast was finished, she helped clean up like always and then agreed to walk Takeda to school before leaving. At the door to the house, he grabbed her hand, his other conspicuously hidden behind his back. Suchin stood by his other side, a secretive smile on her face.

“Mom and I got you something,” he said. “Well, two somethings. One from each of us.”

Nix kneeled down in front of him, the corners of her mouth already curling up despite her surprise.

“What did you get me presents for?” she asked.

“Like, a birthday and anniversary and a couple other things,” Takeda explained. “You’ve been a part of the family for over a year and a half. It’s about time.”

She chuckled. Had it really been so long already? It felt like so little time— but of course it would when she could only visit for about a week each month.

They both held out a hand, a black velvet box in each one. She arched an eyebrow, curious and surprised yet again. Of all the things she would have expected them to get her, jewelry would have been very low on the list.

Seeing that Takeda was all but vibrating with excitement, she accepted his first. Flipping the lid back revealed a silver circlet shaped like a dragon, nestled between two cushions. She extracted it, found a simple bead mechanism that revealed it to be an earring.

“To replace the one you gave mom,” Takeda explained. “I noticed you haven’t replaced it yet.”

She smiled at him, tugging him forward to kiss his forehead and envelop him in a tight hug. “I love it, kiddo. I’ll wear it everyday.”

And to prove it, she hooked it into her piercing on the spot, securing it and grinning at Takeda’s pleased expression. She glanced at Suchin next, arching an eyebrow as she stood and took the box, popping it open. There was another circlet inside, this one larger with three bands of different metals interwoven together.

“Didn’t think you’d be the one to propose,” Nix teased.

“You proposed first, remember?” Suchin replied, holding up the converted earring Takeda had just replaced.

Nix laughed a little and plucked the ring from its bed, slid it onto her own pinky finger. She met Suchin’s eyes, a secret smile shared between them before they folded and said their proper goodbyes. For the first time in a long time, Suchin looked worried for her.

“You’ll be safe, won’t you?” she asked. “You’ll come back to us?”

“I always do.”

Takeda slid his hand into hers, tilted his head back to smile up at her. “Ready to go?”

“Never,” she admitted, which made his grin brighten, “but we have to go anyway. We don’t want you to be late for school.”

*THEN*

_ Nix winced as she smoothed Nathan’s blood-sticky hair back from his forehead. They’d survived the mission and she’d done so with fewer wounds than him, but only barely. At least one of her ribs was broken and she’d lost about a pint of blood if she was being conservative in her estimate. _

_ “At least we did it,” she murmured, ragged. _

_ Nathan grit his teeth and didn’t answer. If she’d had the energy, she would have numbed his pain, but it was all she could do to stay upright. He was laid out on one of the stone slabs Quan Chi used for experimentation, leaving crimson smears across its surface. Nix hated the sight of him on it, but he was in no condition to do more than breathe, never mind move. _

_ “Niece, nephew,” Quan Chi’s voice resonated from the entrance of the chamber. _

_ Nix leaned against the edge of the table as she turned, dipping her head as he approached. _

_ “Uncle,” she greeted in return. _

_ He stopped a couple feet away from her, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes perused first her injuries, and then Nathan’s. There was a pregnant moment of silence, and then he closed the last of the space between them. _

_ Nix did not flinch away from the firm grasp on her chin, nor from the thumb that swept over a smarting cut on her cheek. _

_ “Your mission was a success.” It wasn’t phrased as a question. When she didn’t correct him, she recognized the remote satisfaction that flickered through his eyes before he frowned. “Your condition, however, leaves something to be desired.” _

_ She bit back the response on the tip of her tongue. That he didn’t prepare them for just how many obstacles they would face, the levels of enchantments they had to dismantle. The fact that they were not the only ones after their goal. _

_ Quan Chi did not accept excuses. They’d completed their task, but with difficulty that showed. It was unseemly for the Arch Sorcerer’s niece and nephew to look so damaged. _

_ “Yes, uncle,” she replied. _

_ He released her face and waved a dismissive hand over her shoulder. On the table, Nathan finally went still and quiet. Nix sighed in relief on his behalf. Quan Chi indicated another table nearby and she hauled herself to sit atop it. _

_ “Despite your training and Shang Tsung’s spells, you two are still unfortunately fragile,” he continued. “You are of little use if every mission nearly kills you.” _

_ Nix remained silent, though he wasn’t looking for a response. A bitter mix of resentment and fear swirled in her stomach. The former for the words themselves. That their value to him lay only in their usefulness to him. The latter bloomed from what those words implied. Quan Chi had spent too long investing in them to just discard them… which meant he’d find a way to rectify it. _

_ And that always involved pain. _

_ “Until now, I have been reticent to experiment with you and your brother because you were born in another dimension,” he explained. “However, I believe I may have found a solution.” _

_ Nix ripped her eyes away from her hands, folded in her lap. Quan Chi was already looking at her, gauging her reaction. _

_ “How?” she ventured. _

_ The corners of his mouth quirked. “You shall see when you are strong enough to survive the spell.” _

*NOW*

Chains. Always chains.

It felt like some sort of metaphor.

This particular chain was threaded through a metal loop secured to a concrete floor, each end welded to a shackle on either wrist. It wasn’t so much the material or the positioning than the symbols engraved in the metal. At the slightest struggle, the magic infused in the bonds would activate and release a painful shock.

Nathan had outdone himself.

Nix leaned her back against the wall, running her thumb over the enchanted script, reading through touch. An old complicated spell Quan Chi had taught them with great reluctance because there were few ways to escape without being willingly released.

She frowned, eyes falling to her hands. There was dried blood crusted to the crevices beneath her fingernails. Her knuckles were bruised and split, though already healing. She’d only been conscious long enough to get her bearings, to remember how she’d gotten into her current predicament.

She could sense Nathan approaching. The restless mixture of anticipation and nervousness and uncertainty that swirled through him. Even with the psychic wall that separated her empathy from him, Nix found those emotions bubbling within her as well.

For a moment he only stood outside the thick steel door, trying and failing to gather himself. And then, when he grew too impatient, the door swung in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what I have written so far, so it'll be a few days before I upload the next chapter. The next two or three are going to be heavy because of... you know... canon. Sorry guys.


	9. Just One Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When reasoning fails, Nix makes a promise and prays she's not too late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earlier than I expected, yay!

**It is time for you to leave,**  
**or so it may seem**  
** For there's one more thing have of mine,**  
** the cord to my strings**

She was… different, somehow. Nathan could sense it as soon as he stepped into her modified holding cell, as soon as their minds brushed. Nix had settled in some way. She was more grounded. More human. Nathan had lost track of time, couldn’t remember how long ago that last, awful interaction had been but he felt the distance of it keenly.

After seeing every step of her metamorphosis since they’d been children, this new incarnation was jarring. Alien. There was no feeling of connection between the version of Nix chained before him and the one who he’d fought so long ago. The only thread between them was the scar carved across the bridge of her nose and the practiced impassivity of her unchanged features.

And there, finally, some relief. Even with the new element of unfamiliarity, he could still read through her masks. Decipher her thoughts and emotions from the shine of her eyes alone. She was staring at the scar that marred his own face and he could see the regret, guilt, hurt bubbling up inside her. It was both gratifying and frustrating.

Nathan ignored the chair stationed several feet in front of her. Instead, he kneeled on the ground with the loose chain between them. There was silence for several moments, heavy with words unspoken and swallowed emotions. Nathan had never been so conflicted to see his twin. As happy and relieved as he always was, the resentment of her abandonment lingered.

Nix didn’t even open her mouth, eyes clouded over as she observed him. It would be up to him to begin the conversation. His eyes drifted back to the scar on her nose and he grinned.

“If we ever see our uncle again, he’s going to be pissed about that.”

She snorted softly. “He’s going to be pissed about more than that.”

They shared a smirk, satisfaction in defying Quan Chi even in such a small, petty way. For that brief, shining moment it was just like it used to be. The two of them, against the world. Against everything. Ruthless and strong and united, invincible. Dread and Agony.

It only made reality all the more bitter on his tongue. 

“It didn’t have to be like this,” he said, amusement withering.

Nix’s expression shuttered in a heartbeat. Her jaw set in a firm line as she dropped her eyes to the shackles binding her wrists. She curled and uncurled her fingers, but Nathan recognized it was more restless energy than the desire to harm. Even so, the chains were a necessary precaution. She may not have been able to kill him, but Nathan knew better than anyone the scope of desolation her ire could manifest.

“No, it didn’t,” she agreed.

He sucked his teeth, dissatisfied. Nix had always had a way of robbing him in her more stubborn moods.

“Why, then?” he demanded. “Why did you leave?”

A muscle in her jaw twitched. “You know why.”

He shook his head, frowning. He remembered what she’d told him that day. About the blood and the cruelty and wanting to be _ different _. At the time he hadn’t understood what she meant— and he still didn’t, with such a great chasm between them. There was no “different” for them; there was no other way to be.

“And you’ve done a fine job, haven’t you?” he scoffed. “What, is bounty hunting and torturing Black Dragon goons somehow more palatable?”

One corner of her mouth twisted in a snarl. “So what if it is?”

Nathan barked a laugh and sat back, resting his forearms on his knees. “We could have done that. You didn’t have to storm off in a moralistic huff. Torture is torture. Death is death. I don’t care who we do it to.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply. Nathan could sense that she was recentering herself, cooling the fierce temper they shared. That was new. When she opened her eyes again, they remained focused on her own hands.

“No, it’s… it’s different. The people I kill are bad— and I don’t torture anyone. I don’t have the stomach for it.” Her voice was quiet. “I don’t black out anymore, either.”

Nathan’s eyebrows shot up, and then his gaze narrowed. If she wasn’t getting into truly dangerous battles (difficult to find in Earthrealm, even in their line of work) then it would make sense that she wasn’t slipping like she did before.

But the rest of it?

“What the hell are you talking about?” he snapped. “Bad people don’t exist, Nix. There’s just people, and they survive us or they don’t.”

She sighed, hands twitching up to pinch the bridge of her nose before remembering the chain and dropping them again. “You hate Quan Chi. You don’t think he’s a bad person?”

Nathan ran his tongue over his teeth. His blood felt like it was seething beneath his skin, too restless to flow through his veins. This line of thinking was bizarre. Unusual. They didn’t think like… this. It was overly complicated, messy, and useless.

“I don’t care what kind of person he is. Good or bad, I hate him for what he did to us. That’s all that matters.”

“That’s not all that matters to me,” she insisted, firm and hard.

He exhaled in a harsh burst and leaned forward, trying to catch her gaze.

“What the hell’s gotten into you, huh?” he demanded. “People called me unhinged, but you used to love the blood and death and power just as much as me. Skarlet had nothing on you.”

She shook her head, then tipped it back against the wall but her gaze slid sideways. “Quan Chi made us that way. I don’t want to be what he made me.”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. Quan Chi just wanted obedient servants. The bloodlust was all us— and we’re so _ good _ at it.”

“It’s not _ we _ anymore,” she reminded sharply.

He jerked back, the pain of that dismissal hitting harder than he expected. No matter what she claimed, Nix was still every bit as cruel as she had been in Outworld. She could hide it behind flimsy veneers of conscience and morality, but it took so little to provoke her. There was only grim satisfaction to be found when it was turned on him, though.

“And who’s fault is that?” he snapped.

“Yours!” she replied without hesitation. “You didn’t understand then, and you don’t understand now. You’re too selfish and too twisted.”

Nathan shot to his feet, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his side. Green tendrils of energy crackled up his arms. He grit his teeth as Nix stared him down, daring him to lash out. He knew her game, though. It would only prove her point and he wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. He didn’t owe her any favors.

Without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed out.

*THEN*

_ Earthrealm was _ fun _ . _

_ The war with Outworld had left a vacuum of power in several crime syndicates that the twins had gleefully inherited leadership of when the dust had settled. Learning to do things “like Earthrealmers” was just as amusing as running their black markets. Nix and Nathan had the fatal tendency to get bored without the thrill of war to keep them occupied, so their new underlings were more than willing to help them assimilate. _

_ Nathan was especially partial to the dress and the food. Business suits were so clean and crisp, lighter than sorcerer robes and far less forgiving of bloodstains. That last point was bemoaned by his tailors, but Nathan relished the aesthetic of fresh viscera on a white button-down. There was something so… striking about it. _

_ As for food, there was nothing like a good milkshake. And because he and Nix owned the club he sat in, boozy milkshakes were a staple of the bar cuisine. Alcohol did little for Nathan on a physical level, but the bite of vodka mixed well with the sweetness of the sugar and chocolate. He had vague memories of his parents taking them for milkshakes as children but that was literally another dimension and lifetime ago. _

_ They were hosting a “business” meeting, as Nix insisted on calling it. They were meant to come to agreements without the use of violence, which was boring in Nathan’s opinion but he wasn’t about to argue with her. So they had a VIP table in an upper level of the club, where it was quieter and cooler and their four new “associates” could discuss matters in leisure. _

_ “You’re not from around here as I understand it?” This came from the son of a mafia don. _

_ Nathan didn’t care for him much, hadn’t even bothered to learn his name. Unfortunately, the crime lordling seemed intent on becoming friendly and Nathan had been forced to humor him. It might have had something to do with their similarity in ages, though Nathan was much older than him in all the ways that mattered. _

_ “No,” he answered. “My sister and I came through in the war. We’ve taken a liking to it here.” _

_ “That war was crazy shit, right?” the boy laughed. “Killed half the fucking pretty women. Wish they’d gotten more of the ugly ones, ya know?” _

_ Nathan arched an eyebrow, draping his arm across the back of the couch he lounged on. A couple of the other kingpins were listening with mixtures of mild amusement and exasperation. _

_ “Women?” he inquired. _

_ “C’mon man,” the boy chuckled. “Don’t tell me you don’t like women. Are you a—” _

_ “Don’t mind him,” one of the others interrupted, “puppies just like to yip for attention.” _

_ The don’s son scowled, eyes narrowed as he swallowed the rest of his drink in one go. The jab at his age and experience rankled when he was trying to be impressive, and Nathan observed, entertained. _

_ “I’m just making friendly fucking conversation,” he snapped. “We’re not even talking business yet.” _

_ Another cut off his own conversation to intercede as well. “Then maybe you should watch your liquor, eh? Or you’ll be drunk before the actual meeting begins.” _

_ The don’s son, who was already tipsy, scoffed and gestured at one of the nearby waitresses for another drink. He eyed her short skirt as she took his empty glass, already distracted from his irritation. _

_ “What are we waiting for, anyway?” _

_ Before Nathan could answer, commotion at the VIP stairs caught their attention. A group of scantily clad women had just ascended to the upper level, entertainment for a bachelor party in one of the other glass-encased rooms. Nix had come up with them and glided past the party room into theirs. Nate stood to greet her, not that the don’s son noticed. He was too focused on staring at her chest. _

_ “Ah, the three Bs,” he drawled, “Booze, boobs, and business. The sooner she gets naked, the better.” _

_ Nathan went rigid just as Nix reached them. Her eyes flashed; she’d heard that comment as well and she was not pleased. _

_ Clothing was something of a more… complicated matter for Nix. While she’d revealed far more skin in her own sorceress robes, no one in Shao Kahn’s palace would have dared to even _ think _ something so sexual about her— save Kano, perhaps. The threefold wrath of her, Nathan, and their uncle had been enough to dissuade inappropriate musings, never mind commentary. _

_ Earthrealm was more challenging. They could forgive thoughts, for the most part. Barriers kept most of them out unless they were particularly… loud. Audible consideration, however, was another matter entirely. _

_ “Brother, dear,” she said, in their version of English, “I told you to get business partners, not children.” _

_ “Apologies,” he replied, ducking his head contritely. When she tilted her head, he kissed her cheek in greeting and continued his explanation. “His father is the don and couldn’t come. I’ll kill him now if you want.” _

_ She snorted softly, adjusted Nathan’s tie as she considered. _

_ “No,” she decided. “Later. For now, let him realize his mistake and stew in fear.” _

_ He inclined his head, the corners of his mouth already curling up. Her eyes flashed as she kissed his cheek in return and then turned to their guests. All attention was immediately trained on her, a couple of the other men (the ones who’d met her before) stood as well. _

_ “Thank you for your patience,” she announced. “Allow me to order my own refreshments and then we can conduct business as scheduled.” _

_ Nathan reclaimed his seat as she left, slid the don’s son a sideways look as the boy gaped after her. _

_ “Who the fuck was that?” _

_ One of the other men smack the boy across the back of the head. “Our hostess.” _

_ “That… that was your _ sister _ ?” he asked. _

_ Nathan arched an eyebrow. “You mean the ‘fine piece of ass’? Yes. My twin sister, in fact.” _

_ The boy paled. “Man, I didn’t mean—” _

_ “I think we all understood what you meant,” Nathan interjected, voice cool. “My sister is a beautiful woman, but you should remember whose table you’re sitting at.” _

_ Later, when business was concluded and most parties were satisfied with the new arrangements, conversation drifted to Nix and Nathan and their origins. _

_ “We served many purposes in our old world,” Nix explained. “Magicians, assassins, warmongers, priest and priestess. We were whatever we needed to be and we were given fitting names to reflect that.” _

_ The don’s son was pale again, believing of their claim after hearing how casually they spoke of torture and their part in the war with Outworld. _

_ “Oh?” one of the kingpins asked. “What were those?” _

_ Nathan grinned. “Dread.” _

_ Nix’s eyes were intent on the don’s son. “Agony.” _

*NOW*

“What is that you want, Nathan?” Nix demanded. “What are you hoping to accomplish here?”

He frowned, leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. They’d made no progress in the three days she’d been captive. He’d been encouraged that she hadn’t tried to escape yet, but each day she grew more impatient, more frustrated. They talked in circles before mutual frustration escalated into an argument and Nathan left.

“I want you to come back,” he answered fervently. How could she not understand that? “I want things to be like they used to be.”

She thumped her head against the wall, brow furrowed. If she’d looked him in the eye, he swore he would have seen remorse. “Things can never go back to the way they used to be, Nate. I’m not like that anymore.”

The chair he’d begun sitting in for these conversations skittered backwards as he shot to his feet. Nathan was sick of hearing that. He was sick of her inexplicable “morality,” her refusal to look him in the eye, the lies she had almost convinced herself of. Restless, he began pacing thinking aloud.

“Why are you like this?” he demanded. “What’s happened to you? You go away for a little while and suddenly you sound like that insufferable thunder god. Good and bad, right and wrong. We don’t believe in those things. We’ve never believed in those things!”

“People _ change _,” she repeated for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Yes, and why is that, hmm?” he mused, thoughts jumbled and too loud. He’d been asking himself for days, hardly sleeping as he tried to puzzle out the strange transformation in his twin. Alone, Nix was steadfast. Static. However, she was a reactive empath, affected by the people around her.

“Nathan…” she began, sounding wary.

“No, no, I think I have the answer.” He flashed her a sharp, triumphant grin. “The reason you left. All this talk of changing and being good. Why you won’t just come _ back _…”

She jerked, sat up straight, an alarmed note to her voice. “_ Nathan _, just—”

“There’s someone you love more than me, isn’t there?” he accused.

Her expression went slack. It was honest shock. Lips parted, eyes wide, brows and jaw relaxed. It was because he’d guessed it right. It had to be. There was no other possibility. People may have thought Nix was smarter than him, but Nathan was no fool and he’d thought about it long and hard.

There was no other reason for Nix to abandon him, her twin brother. The only person she’d loved and relied on for years. The one person who knew what she’d gone through, who’d helped her escape their old lives. The person she’d built an _ empire _ with. 

He laughed a hollow, victorious laugh. “I kept thinking you were staring at your shackles, and then I finally got a clue. That ring on your hand is new, and so is the one in your ear. You don’t buy jewelry for yourself; they were given to you by whoever took you from me.”

Her mouth snapped shut as she inhaled, clearly gathering her thoughts. Nathan finally stopped pacing, stood in front of her with his arms crossed, waiting.

“That’s not—” He didn’t want to hear any more excuses.

“Who is it, Nix?” he insisted. “A lover? Someone you met conducting business? Someone from Outworld? One of Raidens ‘warriors of light’?”

She shook her head. “It’s not like that. I love you, Nathan, but we drifted apart. We wanted different things.”

“What could they possibly have that I don’t?” he insisted, voice rising. “What can they give you that I can’t? I could burn this whole world to the ground if you wanted.”

Her voice had taken on a desperate note. “_ I don’t want that _. I don’t want a life of violence anymore!”

“_ Why not?!” _

She shook her head, shifted onto her knees. The rattling of the chain was loud between them. It rang with a horrible echo in Nathan’s head.

“Nathan, I have to go. I can’t keep doing this with you.”

He scowled. “_ No. _ You’re staying until…”

She latched onto his hesitation with a viciousness that she hadn’t displayed in their previous conversations. It was almost just like old times.

“Until _ what _, Nate? We’re never going to agree. You’re not going to get what you want. I need to leave.”

“You really think I’d just let you go?” he scoffed.

She pushed herself to her feet. The chain wasn’t long enough to stand to her full height out of precaution. She was stooped like the ceiling was low when she reached the end of her tether and she hissed in pain as a magic warning jolted up her arms.

“What do you want to hear?” she growled. “Yes, there are people I love other than you. People who are relying on me. I need to go to them.”

He could already feel himself slipping, the edges of his vision losing definition as green tendrils of magic snaked up his arms. Nix didn’t back down, though, and he wasn’t leaving. She tugged at the chains again, grimaced but didn’t allow it to go slack again.

“You’re abandoning me _ again?! _” he snarled. “And you think I’d just let you choose someone else over me?”

“They _ need _ me. You don’t.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Nathan, I’m serious.”

And… and it was just so funny. Like just now it was serious. As if he hadn’t been serious for the last three days, all but begging her to come back, to be his sister again. He threw his head back and cackled.

“Oh, it’s serious, is it?” he chuckled. “Yes, yes, of course.”

Nix was putting on her usual brave face, but she was pale. And she was finally, _ finally _ looking at him. It was talk of this new family, these new loved ones, that had finally made her look him in the eye again. And she was _ afraid. _ He hadn’t seen his sister afraid since they’d been sixteen.

“Look at what these people have done to you, Nix,” he lamented, but it was still just so amusing. That these Earthrealmers had brought _ his _ sister so low. “You’re not even yourself. I think I might be doing you a favor here. You obviously have a problem. You’re… what’s that word? _ Codependent _.”

Her eyes glowed, her own magic coursing up her arms as she yanked at the chains with real effort. Enough effort that he could sense the magic of the spell strain under her power. It held, thankfully, and would probably hold for another day at least.

“Nathan, I _ have to go _,” she repeated. “Let me go. They need my help.”

“I have to wonder why you let such weakness into your life in the first place,” he mused, shrugging. “It just defies logic. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that it’s ‘_ them’ _. How many, hmm? Just a couple people or a whole horde?”

She yanked at the restraints again, gasped at the pain that must have been making a physical appearance by that point. She panted, shoulders shaking.

“I’ll come back for a month,” she blurted. “Things will be just like they used to be for a whole month. I’ll help you run the business. We’ll rule our kingdom and cause mayhem. Just like the old days.”

He arched an eyebrow. Nix had never been one to bargain. She just took what she wanted. But this…

“I could just make you stay forever,” he pointed out. “You’ll come around eventually, I’m sure.”

“Nathan.” Her voice was low, solemn. It was the voice of Agony. “If you don’t let me go, I will never forgive you.”

It sounded like a child’s threat, but Nathan knew she meant it. No forgiveness, no redemption, no mercy. She would find a why to unbind them and then she’d do everything in her considerable power to kill him. She would make Earthrealm a warzone just to annihilate him.

“Ah, there you are, sister dear.”

“_ Now _, Nathan.”

He sauntered a couple steps closer. Not within reach, but silent intention to release her.

“You’ll come back for a whole month?” he inquired.

“_ Yes _,” she hissed. “I promise. I won’t be able to come back right away, but I will come back.”

He waved a hand. Nix was gone before the shackles clattered to the floor.

***  
Nix’s heart was pounding in her chest. Her thoughts were in disarray, vision hazy with the threat of losing herself to the tidal wave of bloodlust. Takeda had been sending her worried thoughts for about twelve hours. She’d thought it was worry for her, since she’d missed their planned meeting time for two days.

Then Suchin’s call had gone off while she’d been speaking to Nathan.

She teleported directly into the house, praying and hoping that it was just another accident. A series of terrifying coincidences. That she’d find Suchin sheepish over the kitchen sink, lunch half-finished on the counter.

Nix found blood and death instead.

The front door was ajar. There were four bodies collapsed on the ground. Three men in tactical gear and masks, and... 

“Suchin!”

Nix rushed to her side, knees buckling. A frantic scan revealed it to be a fatal gunshot wound to her stomach. Suchin was alive, but fading fast. Nix immediately numbed her pain and lifted her as gently as possible to rest in her lap. Nix’s arms and hands and clothes were already soaked and slippery as she tried and failed to staunch the bleeding.

Her eyes and nose burned as Suchin’s lids fluttered open like weak butterfly wings. The corner of her mouth curved up, just slightly. Nix’s heart lurched and squeezed.

“Nix,” Suchin wheezed.

“Oh, gods.” Nix’s voice broke. “I’m sorry, I’m late.”

“No,” she rasped. “This isn’t your fault.”

Her throat felt thick and clogged. “I should have been here. You needed me.”

Suchin just barely shook her head. Her hand, resting on Nix’s thigh, gave a small squeeze. Unable to help herself, Nix connected their minds. Suchin sighed, relief and gratefulness flooding her so that they could communicate without words.

_ It happened too fast, _ Suchin assured. The events replayed through her mind’s eye for Nix’s benefit. The call to warn them. Sending Takeda away. The knock at the door. The men. Nix felt a helpless, belated swell of pride for how swiftly Suchin took down the Red Dragon men before that goddamn _ gun _ misfired.

There was no solace in knowing that the enemies weren’t hers. Suchin was still dying right in front of her. There was a thin, hollow satisfaction that the men responsible were already dead, at least.

“I could heal you,” Nix choked out, “I just need…”

But their house was in a secluded area. There were no souls to steal for Suchin’s sake, her uncle and her ethics be damned. Those of the Red Dragon men had already departed. If Nix had been able to use hers, she would have in a heartbeat, but the spell that bound her and Nathan prevented it.

_ It’s alright. I’ve lived a good life and you two will take care of each other. _

Nix’s vision swam at the mere thought. “We can’t do this without you. Please, you can’t leave us.”

_ We’ll find each other again, Nix. I’ll come back to you two, one day. _

It felt like Nix’s chest was collapsing in on itself. Like she had been shot in the stomach too. Her face felt wet, burning tracks blazing across her cheeks. She grit her teeth against the soul-wrenching pain, bending her head over Suchin.

“You deserve better than this. You shouldn’t…” She couldn’t finish.

_ Everything happens for a reason, dear. I’m at peace. _

And Nix knew she was. Could sense it down to Suchin’s atoms, but it still hurt. It still felt like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Guilt and grief and useless anger made a hurricane inside her.

“Please, I…”

_ I love you, too. Tell Takeda I love him one more time, will you? _ A broken, agonized sound ripped from Nix’s chest. _ At least you know you can cry now. _

“Suchin,” she sobbed.

_ Find your own peace while on Earth, will you, Nix? I want you and Takeda to be happy even without me. I know you can do it. You have each other. _

Her breathing was growing more shallow, her heartbeat fainter. Nix was shaking so hard, she thought she might shake apart.

_ Be good to each other and know I’m always with you. Don’t let this harden either of you. _

And she passed quietly, calmly, her soul leaving on one final sigh. Nix threw her head back and wailed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am... so sorry. Angst isn't usually my forte, especially for a character as emotionally out of touch as Nix, but uh.... ouch, anyway. Next couple chapters are going to be rough, but Kenshi will finally make his grand appearance! It'll either be next chapter or the one after.
> 
> Just don't get your hopes up for immediate attraction like the last few incarnations of Nix.


	10. Bury a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grief spares no one, but sharing it can lessen the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for this, but like I told angel_of_light, the story flows better like this.

Takeda knew something was wrong. Maybe several somethings.

When mom had left this last time, she’d been tense and serious. It reminded him of the old days, when she’d first come into their lives, and he hated it. She’d warned him that she might not be able to come home like usual. She’d also said it was too dangerous for her to call as much. But she was always thinking of him and she’d come back to him eventually, she’d promised.

A big, stubborn, hopeful part of Takeda still expected her to walk through the door after a month had passed. She didn’t. It scared him, but he had to be strong for mom. Well, for both his moms. Nix was strong and smart. Whatever she’d gotten into, she’d make those bad guys sorry they messed with their family.

Two days later, mama got a call. Takeda was doing homework at the kitchen table, practicing fractions just like Nix had shown him. The phone rang, mama answered the way she always did. Then her voice went quiet. The call didn’t last long.

When he looked up, he didn’t recognize the look on her face. The part of him that was like mom knew that something big was coming. Something bad.

“Was… was it mom?” he asked.

Mama didn’t respond for a while. He wondered if she’d even heard him. Then she took a deep breath and turned around. Her expression was calm, but she wasn’t as good at hiding her feelings as Nix was. He could see the tension in the corners of her eyes and mouth.

“No, it wasn’t mom,” she answered. She crossed the kitchen and kissed the top of his head, her hand smoothing his hair back. “Don’t worry about it.”

Takeda tried to listen and get back to his homework, but his hand crept to the pendant around his neck. He squeezed it in the hand not gripping his pencil, wondering where mom was and hoping she was okay and wishing she’d come home.

“You’re going to Nix’s place for a couple days,” mama said suddenly. “We’ll pack you an overnight bag and go after dinner.”

Takeda whipped around and stared up at her, stomach fluttering with nerves. Something was wrong. Mom’s house was only for emergencies.

“Shouldn’t we call mom?” he asked. He didn’t know what was going on, but if it was this serious, he knew they needed her. It was her job, she’d always said. They just had to let her know and—

“If Nix could be here, she would,” mama explained, the words softened by her tone. “It’s no use worrying her when she can’t come to us.”

It made sense, but maybe if mom knew something was actually wrong… 

“I’m just being careful, Takeda,” mama assured him, “so don’t think about it too hard.”

After dinner, they packed clothes for a couple days, pajamas, and his toothbrush. Mom’s house was stocked with food and soap and most other essentials. They drove to the next town in silence, the spells protecting the small house immediately parting for them.

There was no dust on any of the surfaces, even though no one was ever there. The lights were already on, the temperature comfortable. It smelled like a hotel room; it kind of looked like one too. Takeda already wanted to go home, where there were pictures of their family and his artwork on the fridge. Where it smelled like mama’s perfume and mom’s soap and their detergent.

Mama shut the door behind him and walked deeper into the house. Takeda’s room was at the very end of the hall, so that people had to go past mom’s room if they wanted to get to him. Mama set his bag on the bed before kneeling in front of him.

“It’s only for a couple days, okay?” she said. “You’ll be alright here, by yourself.”

And a sudden, intense fear gripped him. It was worse than nightmares. Worse than that time he secretly watched an R-rated movie. He couldn’t breathe and his whole body trembled. He couldn’t let her leave. He didn’t know why, he just couldn’t!

“No!” he shouted, lunging. His arms coiled around her neck as tears stung at his eyes. “No! You have to stay. Please, mama, don’t go. Why can’t you stay here with me? Why can’t we wait for mom to come back?”

She hesitated, considered it. Seeing his chance, Takeda continued. “The house is safe. No one can hurt us here. Mom would want us both to be safe.”

Frowning, she pried him off and searched his teary, pleading expression. Relief flooded him when she finally sighed and nodded, dried his face with the sleeve of her shirt and kissed his forehead.  _ Everything is going to be fine _ , he thought.

“Alright, we’ll stay here together until Nix gets back,” she agreed. “I just have to run back to our house for some clothes.”

He didn’t like the sound of that, but as well-stocked as Nix kept her house, she didn’t keep any clothes there.

“I’ll go with you,” he offered. If he could just be with her every step of the way, if he never let her out of his sight, maybe...

Mama shook her head and stood. “No, stay here. Decide on a movie and we can watch it when I get back, okay?”

And then she left.

***

Takeda was curled up in a ball on the couch, a movie queued up and waiting for his mother’s return. She’d promised she wouldn’t be more than an hour at most. He was counting up the minutes of hour two when he heard the unmistakable whir of a portal opening right behind him.

Mom! She could help. He’d just tell her what was happening and she’d fix everything! Takeda scrambled off the couch.

“Mom,” he called. “Mom, you have to—”

He froze. Her face and the neck of her shirt was soaked with tears that brimmed in her red-rimmed eyes, and her skin was ashen. When she saw him, she crumpled to her knees and the portal closed behind her. One of her hands was curled into a fist in her lap. Above it, about three inches of her wrist was mottled red and raw and angry.

He felt like the world was about to swallow him up. Like he was going to fall over the edge of a cliff into hole with no bottom. His feet shuffled forward without his permission. Mom was crying, silent tears that slipped down her cheeks as she tilted her head to meet his eyes. His breath caught in his chest and broke on a helpless sob.

“Mama’s never coming back, is she?” he choked out.

She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, a few more tears dripping down as she swallowed. When she opened them again, he knew the answer even as she lifted her shaking hand. Her fingers uncurled. In the center of her palm was the ring she’d given mama so long ago.

It… it couldn’t be true. She had to be wrong. There had to be a mistake.

But mom didn’t lie.

“Takeda.” Her voice was rough and uneven. He stared at her, his face feeling hot, eyes burning. She reached out and took his hand, turned it over and pressed the ring into his own palm. The world fell quiet and dark for a moment, and then his mother’s voice filtered into his mind like a soothing balm.

_ It’s alright. I’ve lived a good life and you two will take care of each other. _

Her voice was calm and serene, the same voice she used when he had nightmares or got injured.

_ We’ll find each other again... I’ll come back to you two, one day. _

One day? When would that be? Why couldn’t she just stay?

_ Everything happens for a reason, dear. I’m at peace. _

But he already missed her so much. 

_ Tell Takeda I love him one more time… _

His chest hurt like someone was squeezing his heart.

_ I want you and Takeda to be happy even without me. I know you can do it. You have each other. _

How were they supposed to be happy without mama? She was everything to them. They weren’t a family without her!

_ Be good to each other and know I’m always with you. Don’t let this harden either of you. _

The world came in again, gradual and gentle and terrible. Mom was still on the floor in front of him, her eyes reflecting his own pain back at him. Takeda closed his fingers around the ring and threw himself into her arms, crying loud and long and hard. She hugged him just as tightly, her breaths stuttering in her chest and shoulders shaking.

“W-why didn’t you help her?” he asked, looking for some sense, some reasoning, something to blame.

“I tried,” she answered. He pulled back, hoping for answers in her expression but all he saw was heartbreak and grief. “Takeda, I did everything I could, but it was too late.” The tears wouldn’t stop. It scared him as much as anything else. Mom never cried. “I’m so sorry. I should have been here. I should have protected you both like I promised.”

Takeda’s gut twisted. He thought of what mama had said, about her being with them if she could. He thought of the ugly marks on mom’s wrist. The promise she’d made to do anything and everything she could for them. And finally, he thought of the way she’d looked at mama, the way she looked now that she was gone.

“I don’t think it’s your fault,” he sniffled. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry too.”

He buried his face against her shoulder again and continued to cry. Mama was gone. Gone forever. Nix was all he had left. He was all she had left. Mama was right, they had to take care of each other. And right now, that was crying together over shared loss.

***

Nix woke the next morning to the unfamiliar ceiling of her safe house, warmth curled against her side. Takeda’s sleeping mind brushed hers as she blinked at the ceiling, eyes aching despite a long night of rest prompted by pure exhaustion. It was good that he was resting, that he’d found some peace in oblivion. Despite the uninterrupted sleep, she’d been haunted by dreams.

She sighed and laid in the morning sun, reluctant to disturb her son by moving. Instead, she watched the swaying shadows of trees and planned, organizing her discordant thoughts.

She’d promised to return to Nathan, and while she hated it, she hated to break promises even more. Trouble was that she hadn’t expected to lose Suchin— and that was still a painful thought, sensitive like an exposed nerve when she poked at it. As much as it hurt, though, Nix had to be realistic.

Someone had to take care of Takeda while she was gone, because she wasn’t bringing him anywhere near Nathan. The list of people who would agree to do it was small. The list of people she  _ trusted _ to do it was even smaller.

Raiden was a thought she considered, then dismissed. She’d seen what happened to Liu Kang and Kung Lao, his favorites by all accounts. Even if he managed to be an actual responsible guardian— something she couldn’t count on when he was a busy god, after all— she didn’t trust him to let Takeda just be an eight-year-old recovering from trauma, without the crushing weight of protecting Earthrealm.

Special Forces was just as bad,  _ and _ hellbent on arresting Nix, even though they could definitely protect Takeda. Nix wasn’t about to leave her son with soldiers still raw from the Outworld war, even though she wasn’t on bad terms with that Kabal guy. Too busy and also probably duty-bound to try incarcerating her.

She racked her brain, never before more frustrated with herself for being antisocial and also her uncle’s niece. Someone who could protect Takeda from the organization trying to kill him, who wouldn’t impose their views on him in her absence, and who didn’t hate her guts. 

Well, there was…

“Gods, he’s going to roast me alive,” she whispered to herself.

It was worth a shot, anyway. They had to leave Thailand anyway, and Takeda had always wanted to see Japan.

The other important matter of business was the men after Takeda. She’d recognized the Red Dragon tattoo on one of the men in the house. Surprisingly enough, the Red Dragon clan was one of the few organizations who wasn’t out for her blood. She’d had few dealings with them when she’d been with Nathan and run into them even less while solo. They’d stayed out of her way for the most part, being small and easily dismantable if they crossed her or her brother.

So, for whatever reason the Red Dragon was after Takeda and Suchin, it wasn’t because of anything Nix had done. It was a hollow comfort, but she’d take it. In any case, they were at the top of her shit-list and she didn’t plan on holding back when the tides of bloodlust rose. If she was lucky, she might even be able to turn Nathan on them in the month she fulfilled her promise.

Takeda shifted against her side and broke her from her thoughts. He sat up with a slow yawn, eyes squinted against the light. He looked confused for a moment, before he seemed to remember where he was and why. The new solemnity in his eyes sent a pang through her heart, but she had to accept that she couldn’t protect him from everything, especially his own pain. She just had to help him work through it.

“Morning, kiddo,” she said, sitting up as well. He slumped against her sleepily.

“Morning,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Nix thought of Suchin and her last words, her last wish. Takeda was Nix’s sole responsibility now. She’d do anything for him, be anything for him. She’d rather die, rather go back to  _ Quan Chi _ if it meant he’d live a good, happy,  _ safe _ life. That was worth any obstacle in their path.

Takeda tugged at her sleeve, his big dark eyes blinking up at her. “Will you make breakfast?”

She managed a smile and hugged him one-armed. “Anything you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The worst of the sad stuff should be over for now, and Kenshi should be appearing in the next chapter.


	11. Army of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix meets the last person she expected (or wanted) to in the wake of Suchin's death. Takeda's unimpressed. Kenshi probably hates his life a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to upload as best I can but Wi-Fi is really challenging here. Plus side, there will probably be some art for this fic soon.

Nix eyed Takeda over her third cup of coffee. It should have been bitter, made worse by the sweet fruit she’d included with their pancakes, but everything tasted like ash on her tongue. Still, she ate. She had to set the example and finish a balanced meal for Takeda’s sake, even though she had no appetite. It had at least prompted him to eat his own food, even though he looked even less hungry than her.

For the last ten minutes, he’d been frowning into his syrup, which meant he had something serious on his mind. That was no surprise, given everything he’d been through in the last 12 hours alone. Still, Nix knew better than to push him to speak before he was ready.

“Are we leaving?” he asked.

She didn’t flinch— at least not outwardly. “Yes. It’s not safe here, anymore.”

As much as it was true, she hated to do it to him. So many changes, so many goodbyes. Nix had wanted nothing more than a normal life for him since the beginning. He needed stability and safety and friends, and she was dragging him away from all of that.

Takeda nodded slowly, looking resigned but not surprised. “Where are we going?”

“The Himalayas.”

That did catch him off guard; his eyes snapped up to hers as she sipped from her mug and tried to offer a convincing smile. It was encouraging that he was reacting to things with something other than sadness or resignation.

“Why there?” he asked.

“I have a… friend there. Sort of.”

Takeda’s brow scrunched again, confused. “Why do we need to go to your friend? Do you need help going after the bad guys who…?” He couldn’t finish the question, but she knew what he meant.

Sometimes her no-lying policy was really inconvenient.

“He can keep you safe while I’m away.”

“ _ You’re leaving again?! _ ” he cried. The panic and hurt on his face tore at her already-battered heart. Gods, how could she possibly be a good mother on her own?

“Not for long, Takeda,” she explained, calm and gentle, “I don’t want to go, but I made your uncle a promise so that he’d let me go to come here.”

His eyes latched onto the fading marks on her wrist. She resisted the urge to hide them, even though Takeda had seen her injured before. Had they been normal ligature marks, they would have already been gone, but they were taking longer because of the magic that had been infused in the shackles. She wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing when she saw the understanding dawn on him.

That didn’t mean he was happy about it, though.

“Can’t you break your promise?” he pleaded. “Just this once?”

She winced. “I want to, but if I don’t go back, he’ll…” She swallowed against all the gruesome, bloody possibilities. As careful as she was, Nathan was just as tenacious  _ and _ skilled with the magic as her. If he really put his mind to it, he could find her and Takeda. And then… well, it was still too soon after Suchin’s death to think about losing anyone else. “It’ll be bad.”

He sat back in his seat, giving up on breakfast altogether. Nix couldn’t blame him. Her own stomach turned over at the thought of another bite.

“How long?” he inquired.

“Just a month, like always,” she assured him, “and I don’t have to go right away, either.”

He sighed, but looked less gloomy, at least. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” she said, “but your safety is most important.” Even if he was miserable in the meantime.

He sniffled a little and climbed out of his seat to hug her tight. “I know,” he answered, mumbled into the collar of her shirt.

She hugged him back, then kissed the top of his head and let him pull away as he rubbed at his watery eyes. 

“Can… can I say goodbye, before we go?” he asked.

She smiled in understanding. “Of course. Let’s clean up and we’ll get ready.”

Nix took him into the house, first. The floor and walls were spotless, the furniture reassembled by magic. No sign of what had occurred the previous day, of course. Takeda glanced around as they stepped over the threshold, his hand wrapped in hers. There was a ridge pressing into the bone of her thumb, his mother’s ring situated on the only finger it would fit for now.

“It feels so cold,” he observed, voice small.

She hummed in agreement. It was hard to imagine that 24 hours earlier, the house had been occupied with the warmth of his and Suchin’s presence. Their absence made their home feel like a hollow shell, an empty box. It was jarring how quickly things could change, how fast it had stopped feeling like the cozy place of solace and peace it had been.

“Let’s pack your things and then we can say goodbye,” she said.

They had to travel light, but she wasn’t going to make him go empty-handed. They packed a few of his favorite shirts and pants, a hoodie they’d bought at an amusement park one summer. He rifled through a drawer with old birthday cards and picked three, as well as his favorite bedtime story that Suchin had always read him.

He dug for his special cellphone and its charger while she unearthed a photo album, not yet collecting dust. They spent half an hour flipping through it but Takeda only picked two, in the end. 

The first was a picture of him and Suchin, taken by his grandmother long ago. He was first learning to walk and Suchin had both his tiny hands in hers while he stumbled around the living room. The smile on her face was radiant and adoring as Takeda watched his own uncoordinated feet.

The second picture was the three of them, taken in the field. It had been a bright and sunny day, made comfortable by a cool wind and the shade of a tree. Nix and Suchin had sat next to each other with Takeda sandwiched between them. Suchin was busy taking the picture, her and Takeda smiling and staring into the lens. But Nix had been staring at Suchin, her gaze soft and kind in a way it never had been before she’d met them.

Takeda tucked the photographs between the pages of his book.

“Are you taking anything with you?” he asked, shouldering his backpack.

“You.”

He leaned into her hip and tilted his head back to peer at her. Gods, he’d never looked so young.

“Is it time to say goodbye to mama?” he asked.

She nodded and took his hand again, lead him outside and into the field where he and Suchin had found her almost two years ago. The grave was marked by a simple headstone, the earth packed down by magic but still bare of grass or flowers. Nix had picked the same tree that they’d been under in Takeda’s picture.

“This is a good place,” he told her. His voice was soft and sad, but not as raw as it had been the day before. “We all loved this place.”

He released her and crept closer, knelt at the foot of the grave and closed his eyes. Nix turned her face away, fighting a wave of tears as the memory of burying Suchin resurfaced. It was better to think of the grave itself, where the vegetation would grow lush and verdant. Nix wasn’t used to the aftermath of death; no wonder she earned her title in Outworld as Agony. She’d never killed anyone with a thought for their loved ones afterwards.

After a few minutes, Takeda stood again and wiped at his eyes with a resolute furrow in his brow. He slid his hand into hers, tilted his head back to look at her.

“We’re all the family we have,” he said. “We take care of each other.”

She smiled back at him, so proud of his bravery and determination, but so distraught that he was forced to have it.

“Always,” she agreed. “Are you ready to go?”

She’d already said her goodbyes.

Takeda took a deep breath, cast one last look at his mother’s grave, then nodded.

“Alright, we’re going to teleport close, but then—”

Sometimes, being who she was came in very handy. Like when people threw spontaneous psychic attacks at her from seemingly nowhere. Only because of years of training and ambushes was she able to react in time. As the blue energy fizzled and dissipated, she cast about with her mind. There, at the top of the hill was a man dressed in black.

She narrowed her eyes and tugged Takeda behind her, lowering into a defensive position. A quick, wider assessment revealed that he was the only opponent present. While his psychic abilities were unexpected and inconvenient, they weren’t as strong as her own. Better to just deal with him than run away. Maybe she’d even get some answers before she killed him.

“Step away from the boy and you might survive this,” the man called.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, since we’re using cliches— over my dead fucking body.”

Takeda tugged on her shirt. “Language, mom.”

She blinked. “Ah— right.” The dissonance of wanting to slaughter someone at the same time that her son was present was giving her some serious whiplash.

The man on the hill froze. “ _ Mom?!” _

She narrowed her eyes. “You know, I thought the Red Dragon would do a little more research before charging in ass-first— sorry, Takeda. He’s got two moms.”

“That’s impossible,” the man replied, starting down the hill. He came up short as she raised a hand in warning, purple tendrils of energy crawling across her skin. One wrong move and she’d find an excellent outlet for her contained anger over Suchin’s death. The only reason he wasn’t already a puddle of writhing agony was because Takeda was present and she didn’t want to traumatize him.

He was close enough, though, that something about his face…

“Oh, and why is that?” she questioned.

“Because I’m his father.”

Fuck. That was why he looked familiar. Takeda shared some of his features, even at eight years old. She believed him even as she confirmed with her powers. None other than Kenshi Takahashi was standing before her. Nix sighed as she lowered her hand; things were suddenly a lot more complicated, but they also made a lot more sense.

“I don’t have a dad,” Takeda piped up in the silence.

Nix snorted softly. He may have looked like Kenshi, but he was her and Suchin’s son through and through. Kenshi tilted his head down, as if looking directly at Takeda— which was the real impossibility, because Nix knew he was blind.

“I know I haven’t been here, but I am your father, Takeda.”

Takeda poked his head around her body, fingers curling unconsciously around her belt. She wasn’t sure if it was a subconscious effort to keep her from leaving, or to keep himself from being taken away, but neither was going to happen. She settled a hand on his back in reassurance and turned to Kenshi.

“So what?” Takeda demanded before she could speak. “What do you  _ want _ ?”

Her eyebrows shot up, impressed. Had she mentioned that she loved that kid? Because she loved that kid.

“A good question,” she agreed, levelling Kenshi with a look that he would be sure to sense. “I’m dying to know what brought you here.”

His responding expression wasn’t friendly, either. “I return the sentiment,  _ Agony. _ ”

Well, wasn’t that a blast from the past? No one called her that, anymore. Had they met at some point and she couldn’t remember it? Her memory had gotten better since the constant injuries and invasions had stopped, but older events were still hazy or out of order.

Takeda tugged on the bottom of her shirt. “Can’t we just leave?” he asked.

She eyed Kenshi, debating. How likely was she to want to kill him? He seemed like an unfortunately easy target for her hurt and anger. That being said, he knew the most about what was going on and she’d rather be informed than resentful.

“Let’s hear him out,” she replied. “We can do it on the way to my friend’s place, okay?”

Takeda didn’t look all that pleased with her answer, but nodded anyway. Squeezing his shoulder, Nix opened a portal and turned back to Kenshi.

“Whatever reason you’re here, I assume Takeda is part of it,” Nix called. “So you can either follow or stay behind, but he is coming with me.”

If he glared any harder, he’d probably burn a hole through his headband.

*THEN*

_ The whole world had gone to hell— Kenshi didn’t need his eyes to see that. Cities were crumbling, casualties were skyrocketing, and there were just so few of the good left to fight Shinnok and his forces. It was overwhelming. Horrific. Every strategy SF formed seemed to fail before it had even begun. At times, it was hard to imagine them winning, but surrender was not an option. _

_ This mission was one of those times. _

_ Resources were scarce when most everything was on fire, so protecting shipments with food and water and medicine was paramount to survival. Kenshi was leading the payload with Johnny Cage, using his psychic powers to scan for oncoming threats. _

_ They didn’t expect the ambush that swarmed up from the sewers, too many and too quickly for countermeasures. Half their men were decimated within thirty seconds, bullets hardly effective. Kenshi expected that they’d have to retreat empty handed if they wanted to live. He could sense Johnny about to give the order when a strong psychic presence nearly blindsided him. _

_ “What the fu—” _

_ The woman seemed to drop out of the sky, landing in the middle of the melee with maniacal laughter that rang across the ruined street. _

_ “Oh shit,” Johnny said, “that’s Quan Chi’s niece.” _

_ Kenshi had heard of her at the tournament, though they’d never been introduced. She was something like a priestess assassin, half of a deadly pair both feared and revered in Shao Kahn’s court. Beautiful and deadly and rumored to be insane, they called her “Agony” and Kenshi could see why. While not able to read her thoughts directly, there was a frantic, violent,  _ gleeful _ edge to her. She was enjoying herself at the end of the world. _

_ He readied his blade, expecting a slaughter. Instead, he was baffled when she began tearing through Shinnok’s monsters with brutal efficiency. She was Quan Chi’s niece… so why was she killing her own forces? _

_ It was over in three minutes. Even Johnny was shocked into silence, his mind blank except for the image of her in the aftermath. _

_ Agony stood over the corpse of one of the creatures, covered in ink black ichor and viscera. It soaked her clothes, dripped down her face in staining rivers. Even the ends of her fair lavender hair were drenched in black. There was an exaltant grin on her face, eyes bright and wild as she tilted her head back to the sky and laughed again. _

_ “Holy shit,” Johnny muttered finally. _

_ Her focus turned on them, head tilting with dangerous curiosity. Kenshi tensed. Violence seemed inherent to her, sewn into the fabric of her being. At any moment she could decide to attack— _

_ A portal opened beside her and a second, equally powerful psychic presence emerged. The brother, Dread. “Nix,” he said, and then something else that sounded almost like English.  _

_ Her attention flitted away, a terrifying apathy overtaking her with the fighting over. The two spoke for a few moments, Johnny and Kenshi not daring to move or speak. Then the siblings opened a portal and disappeared. _

_ “Should we… take that as a good sign?” Johnny wondered. “Are they on our side?” _

_ Kenshi grimaced. “I think it would be better to just stay out of their way.” _

*NOW*

If Kenshi had been able to see, he would have been staring. There had been no recognition in Agony when he’d appeared, except for the realization that he was Takeda’s father. They had never spoken, or even acknowledged each other, but they’d crossed paths multiple times throughout the war.

Yet, it was almost like she was another person. Everything about her presence felt different from back then. The mad edge wasn’t there anymore, the unstable bloodthirst that had raised the hairs on the back of his neck. She was walking with Takeda’s hand in hers, answering his occasional questions about the wilderness they strolled through.

That didn’t mean Kenshi trusted her, no matter how comfortable Takeda seemed with her. After all, her family had a history of murderous, evil guardians adopting innocent children— if the stories were true, anyway.

“Oh, Kenshi, since we’re apparently being judgemental about parents,” Agony called, the cheer in her voice belied by a dark edge, “care to explain why the Red Dragon is after my son?”

He grit his teeth against the automatic retort that Takeda was not her son. It was a losing argument when Takeda recognized her claims, when the two were walking hand-in-hand, the boy a buffer between her and Kenshi.

“I was on a deep cover mission for Special Forces,” he answered. “Suffice to say, my cover was blown.”

“No shit,” she grumbled, which made Takeda squawk in protest again. She ruffled his hair and turned back to Kenshi. “So you screwed up your mission, but how did they find out about Takeda and Suchin?”

“I don’t know.” He hated to admit it, but there was no point lying to her. “I intend to find out.”

Agony snorted. “You’re already on the Red Dragon’s radar, and you think you’re going to find out anything useful? Get real. I’ll find out myself.”

He frowned. “Even if I trusted you, I despise your methods.”

There was a beat where he assumed she made some sort of rude expression or gesture as her aggravation spiked at the fringes of his mind. He half expected her to lash out, but the retribution never came.

“You Warriors of Light are so sanctimonious,” she scoffed. “What, it’s only okay to kill people when you say so? Get real. I do your job more often than you do, and  _ better _ at that.”

Takeda made a loud and scandalized “ooh” noise. Kenshi blamed her for how entertained the boy was when they were discussing  _ death _ of all things.

“This isn’t a conversation to be had in front of children,” he hissed.

She sucked her teeth. “Have you ever been near—  _ move! _ ”

The grip of foreign magical energy jerked him to the side just as a shower of arrows rained down on the grass where they’d been. He heard her curse from a few feet away, the burst of Agony’s abilities rising to the surface. It felt like static electricity skittering over his skin, all too familiar from the war, always right before she appeared and wreaked havoc.

He didn’t want that near Takeda.

“Run!” Kenshi shouted.

And in his fear and shock, he actually listened.

“What— Takeda, no! Wait—” Agony began, but was quickly distracted by the Red Dragon forces that overtook them.

It was a poorly stacked fight. Kenshi knew that. Though he hadn’t had to run the whole night with Takeda like he’d anticipated, he’d been awake for too long already just getting to Thailand. Even with Agony’s unexpected help (if it could be called that) he doubted they could defeat the Red Dragon battalion. It was a good thing he hadn’t counted on beating them anyway. They just had to survive long enough…

He cursed as an arrow struck his leg, shattering bone as it pierced through muscle to the other side. A familiar presence approached, looming over him, smug and sadistic.

“You will regret following me, Hsu Hao,” he growled.

“You knew the consequences when you betrayed the Red Dragon, Kenshi. We’ll dismantle your body, then we’ll dismantle your boy.”

Behind him, Agony took down three other Red Dragon members with a single attack, their shouts and grunts fueling Kenshi to stand firm despite his badly damaged leg.

“Protect Takeda,” he called.

She didn’t even acknowledge him, already sprinting away with single-minded purpose and bubbling bloodlust. Kenshi turned back to Hsu Hao. He could already sense the silent legion of warriors approaching. There were more of them than he was anticipating, but that was a pleasant surprise, at least.

“You won’t make it out of here alive, swordsman,” Hsu Hao called. “Daegon commands it!”

Kenshi dropped into a modified fighting stance and began counting the seconds. He hoped Agony would be sane enough to remember not to kill the Shirai Ryu when they arrived.

“Give it your best shot!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: A reunion with an old "friend"


	12. Come As You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix reunites with an old friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really getting these chapters out fast! I'm just super excited for Nix and Kenshi to interact, honestly.

**The fall of the idol**  
**will tear us limb from limb**  
** To where wondering was a sin,**  
** to where nightmares can begin**

It was one of the shortest altercations Nix had ever been in, but it felt like it lasted a thousand years. That gap where Takeda ran away at Kenshi’s urging, where she desperately followed, where that Red Dragon bastard picked him up by the front of his shirt… it lasted an eternity. Then the spear pierced the man’s throat and Nix thought _ good _ and then _ oh, shit _ because she didn’t want Takeda exposed to that.

She closed the last of the distance between them and crashed to her knees to envelop him in a crushing hug. The blood that splattered his face disappeared in a heartbeat, but that wouldn’t change what he’d witnessed. He was shaking like a leaf.

“Takeda?” She pulled back to double-check that he was uninjured. Her powers told her that he was just shaken up, but she had to confirm with her own eyes. “Are you alright? Talk to me.”

“I-I’m okay,” he managed.

She sighed, slumping forward as her heart slowed. He was safe; he was alive. Traumatized, but alive. She kissed his forehead and stood, prepared to decimate everyone and everything. To her surprise, the fight was already drawing to a close. The leader of the Red Dragon battalion was dead, his remaining forces being dismantled by a fleet of skilled ninjas in gold and black.

Spearheading it all, and helping Kenshi to his feet, was a familiar imposing figure.Well, that was convenient. She glanced down at Takeda as soon as she recognized that it was safe enough for him to approach.

“Can you walk?” she asked.

He glanced at her, at the warriors, then swallowed thickly and nodded. Brave kid. She squeezed his shoulder.

“Come along, then. My friend is down there.”

Takeda’s eyes got a little rounder, but he followed at her side as she backtracked to Kenshi and the man they’d come to see. He turned as she approached, eyes narrowed and hard over the edge of his half-mask. She stopped a non-threatening distance away, her hands relaxed at her sides.

“Phoenix.”

Takeda edged behind her, hand curled in the bottom of her shirt. Hanzo Hasashi, in the flesh and blood once again. It had been such a long time. Nix cracked a small smile.

“How are you, Hanzo?” she asked. “Or should I call you grandmaster, now?”

There was a flash of surprise in his eyes as she offered a small, friendly bow. An almost imperceptible amount of tension eased from his shoulders and what was visible of his face.

“Given our history,” he said, tone losing its edge, “I’ll accept either from you.”

*THEN*

_ There was a burst of heat at her side, then Scorpion’s pale eyes glaring down at her. _

_ “You left.” _

_ She eyed him sidelong, the corners of her mouth tilted down. “You were preoccupied and I have duties to attend to. I hardly have time for your anger to run its course.” _

_ He’d been her escort since she’d woken from the spell her uncle and Shang Tsung had cast. It had been Quan Chi’s solution to his niece and nephew’s mortality, a spell that bound their life forces together. The magic was dark and difficult, had nearly killed Nix and Nathan outright, and had left them unconscious for several days. _

_ When they’d awoken, Scorpion had been a new and unexpected addition to their inner circle. Quan Chi had ordered him as Nix’s temporary bodyguard while she was recovered and adjusted to the change in her body and mind. Her magic had become tempestuous, unsettled from mingling with Quan Chi’s and Nathan’s. As a result, she was prohibited from using it, which left her at a distinct disadvantage against the others in the palace who might challenge her. _

_ Even so, Nix couldn’t help the unfamiliar resentment at the implication she couldn’t protect herself. As powerful as she was with magic, her capabilities weren’t limited only to those skills. What was the point of years of Kombat training if not to substitute her psychic powers? _

_ Compounded onto that, Scorpion was frustratingly dedicated to his task. Nix had become used to more privacy and solitude, and his constant presence was beginning to grate on her nerves. So, she’d been somewhat… uncooperative. Kept slipping away the minute his attention was elsewhere. She never got far, but she relished those few moments of isolation. _

_ “You make this far more difficult than it needs to be,” he growled, “and you test my patience.” _

_ “What little patience you have,” she scoffed. “You ought to tame that rage before it drives you to ruin.” _

_ The temperature emanating from him increased by a few noticeable degrees, but he wasn’t on fire yet, thankfully. Nix didn’t have the capacity to safely put him out, and she wasn’t fireproof. _

_ “And you would do well to tame your arrogance, witch.” _

_ She hummed, noncommittal, one corner of her mouth quirking. “Well, I am my uncle’s niece.” _

_ He grunted. “Your brother is more like him than you.” _

_ Though she kept her face neutral, there was something sharp in her gaze as she turned on him. _

_ “And what do you mean by that?” she asked, deceptively pleasant. _

_ A new voice interjected. “It means you’re a sorry excuse for a magician.” _

_ Skarlet. Of course. Nix stopped, facing Skarlet who blocked the middle of the hallway ahead. Scorpion stopped just a step behind her, silent and waiting to see what would unfold, if he’d need to intervene. With any luck, Nix would be able to dissuade her, but she wasn’t holding much hope. _

_ “Perhaps you should reconsider throwing stones in glass houses, hm?” Nix replied sweetly. “After all, you only know one form of magic— and a basic one, at that.” _

_ “Bold of you to speak of magic when I hear yours is unusable,” Skarlet drawled. _

_ Of course she’d heard. Nix bit back her aggravation, almost surprised by the flare of her own temper. She was usually so much calmer. She knew Skarlet made jabs at her skills and status as a tool to manipulate her into fighting, but it didn’t seem to matter. All Nix wanted was to rip her apart. _

_ “A temporary side effect of a spell,” Nix assured. “I’d say I’m surprised that you’d be so cowardly as to challenge me in this state, but that would be a lie.” _

_ Skarlet had perfected the smug, unbothered look on her face, but Nix could still sense her ire. See the glint of it in her eyes. Nix smirked back. _

_ “I wouldn’t call it cowardly,” Skarlet replied, drawing a blade. “More like opportunistic.” _

_ Nix arched a single eyebrow, unimpressed and unconcerned. “Funny that you didn’t take the ‘opportunity’ with my brother. Frightened of him?” _

_ Skarlet clicked her tongue, and lowered her body, preparing to pounce. “Someone will have to take his leash when you’re gone,” she purred, “and I know he’s a man who relishes blood.” _

_ Nix’s eyes flashed as she automatically called on her magic, crackling tendrils of energy sparking at her fingertips. She was just about to surge forward when a large hand gripped her arm and tugged her back. The shock of someone, anyone, daring to touch her stayed her hand and gave Scorpion the opportunity to insert himself between the two women. _

_ “Enough,” he said. There was a note of authority in his voice that surprised Nix. “Move along or face the consequences.” _

_ Skarlet all but hissed at him, her lip curling as she straightened out of her fighting stance. Nix blinked, her volatile magic fading to the background again. This was an interesting turn of events. _

_ “I did not come here to waste time on a Wraith.” Skarlet spit the last word like it was poison. _

_ “If you linger here, that is exactly what you will do,” Scorpion replied, crossing his arms. _

_ Skarlet glared at him, shot Nix a look that promised retribution later, then slunk off. Well then. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so hasty to discount Scorpion’s company. He was worth his weight in gold if it meant Skarlet would stop ambushing her for impromptu sparring matches. _

_ “Was that quick enough for your liking?” he asked. And was that a note of irony in his voice? Nix had been too hasty indeed. She could count on one hand the people whose company she enjoyed, but Scorption was quickly finding a place on that list. _

_ “I suppose,” she replied, but inclined her head and fell into step beside him. He grunted but accepted the unspoken truce as they began down the hallway again. _

_ There were a few moments of silence as their newfound understanding settled between them. _

_ “Who were you in life, Scorpion?” she asked finally. _

_ “My name was Hanzo Hasashi,” he answered. “I was leader of the Shirai Ryu.” _

_ She hummed. The Shirai Ryu were a ninja clan from Earthrealm. She knew little of them since they had no bearing on Outworld affairs, but from what she’d heard, they were formidable. _

_ “What happened?” she asked. _

_ His permanent scowl only deepened. “The Lin Kuei slaughtered my clan. Sub-Zero led their forces and killed my wife and son.” _

_ Later in life, Nix would hesitate. The subject would end there, with no further questions or comments. Perhaps she would offer inept condolences. But at that time, she wasn’t so much as taken aback. Such news was of no shock. That cruelty was nothing she didn’t witness or experience (or even inflict) on a daily basis in Outworld. To her, it was a mere fact of life. _

_ “Were you killed with them?” _

_ “No.” There was a growl in his voice. “I was killed before that on a mission.” _

_ She hummed, clasping her hands behind her back. “You became a Wraith to avenge them.” It wasn’t a question. _

_ “I will exact my vengeance on Sub-Zero at the upcoming tournament.” _

_ Ah yes, the Mortal Kombat tournament. It was only a week or so away. Nix had expected to participate, but not even her uncle knew if her magic would be settled enough by then. _

_ “I will hope for your victory then,” she offered. It was possibly the nicest thing she’d ever said to someone other than Nathan. _

_ She almost missed his responding nod. _

*NOW*

“Then call me Nix,” she replied. “Phoenix is too formal, and I don’t go by Agony anymore.”

That last part was directed at Kenshi, even as she and Hanzo clasped forearms. It wasn’t quite a friendly gesture, but there was mutual respect in it nonetheless. As he pulled away, he crossed his arms and levelled her with a solemn gaze.

“I appreciate that you didn’t teleport into the temple,” he began, “but why are you here?”

His gaze flicked to Takeda, then back to her. An unspoken question that she could read without invading his privacy. She gave the barest nod, but said, “Better discussed elsewhere, if you wouldn’t be opposed.”

He seemed to debate for a moment. She imagined him weighing their brief shared history against the person he knew then and the person standing before him now. A glance at Kenshi and then another to Takeda decided him.

“The temple, then. You can explain there and Kenshi can be treated for his wounds.”

Right. Kenshi. Nix resisted the immediate violent and furious urge that blazed through her. They could have a conversation later, when she’d cooled off and Takeda wasn’t around. Instead, she eyed his injured leg, then glanced at her son. He blinked back at her.

“That looks like it hurts,” he said.

It did, didn’t it? It would take months to heal, between the shattered bones and the severed muscles and tendons. That wasn’t even taking into account the rehabilitation to get it back to full strength. And the whole time it would hurt like a bitch. Nix knew because she’d had similar injuries and it had only been through grovelling and begging that Quan Chi had allowed her to heal through magic. Most times, anyway.

As pissed as she was at Kenshi… she was more interested in proving him wrong.

He gasped in a mix of pain and shock as her magic infused the wound, began reknitting tissues and fibers. The bloody arrow fell into the grass as she arched an eyebrow. Kenshi couldn’t see it, of course, but she was sure he got the gist of her unspoken message anyway: _ I’m not as evil as you think I am. _

She turned back to Hanzo. “Shall we go, then?”

***

Hanzo waited until they’d reached the Shirai Ryu temple before asking. Phoenix— Nix, he corrected himself— seemed distracted with the boy clinging to her side, and Kenshi was in too much pain from his spontaneously healing wound. Hanzo wasn’t convinced that it had been an entirely altruistic decision, but it was more kindness than he expected from someone like her.

It just reinforced what he’d realized as soon as she’d smiled and bowed to him— Nix was no longer the same woman he remembered from Outworld. It seemed they’d both grown from casting off their chains.

Once they arrived at the temple, most of the warriors who’d accompanied him dispersed without a word. He issued orders to the couple who remained to prepare food and lodging for their guests, then led the three outsiders deeper into the temple. They stopped overlooking one of the inner courtyards, where Hanzo removed his mask so they could speak freely.

“So many Shirai Ryu…” Kenshi began, breaking the silence. “Where did you find all these fighters?”

Hanzo glanced over the men and women training hard in the rings below them. Some practiced katas in unison, others formed loose circles around sparring comrades. The glint of metal in the setting sun punctuated grunts of effort from those advanced enough for weaponry.

“I sought warriors who lost their families in the Netherrealm war,” he explained. “Sole survivors, like me.”

Nix hummed, eyes trailing over his clansmen. “It’s impressive.”

He inclined his head before his gaze fell on the boy. Young and certainly misplaced next to either of the adults accompanying him. The boy stared back, defiant and distrustful in equal measures even as he shuffled the barest inch closer to Nix. He assumed that meant she had responsibility for him.

“Who’s your apprentice?” he asked.

“My son, actually,” she and Kenshi replied at the same time.

And Hanzo had thought he was beyond surprise anymore. His eyebrows shot up in the following tense silence. They were an even less likely combination than either one alone with the boy. Though from the disdainful expression on Nix’s face, and the strained one on Kenshi’s, it didn’t seem to be a happy union.

“You don’t have a son,” he asserted. “Either of you.” _ And certainly not together _, he didn’t say.

“Turns out I do,” Kenshi corrected.

Nix rolled her eyes. “Kenshi fathered him, but left before Takeda was born. I was… close with Takeda’s mother and they essentially adopted me into the family. So now Takeda is my son.”

There was a great deal missing from that explanation. The last time Hanzo had seen Nix had been when she lifted the spell that kept him a Wraith bound to Quan Chi’s will. At that time, she hadn’t been altogether sane, despite the favor she’d done him. The spell she’d suffered from when they’d first met, compounded with events at the Mortal Kombat tournament, had taken a steep toll on her mind. Her humanity had suffered for it.

And that was not even considering Nathan, who had been fiercely protective (bordering on possessive) of her.

“I see,” Hanzo said. “And what happened to his mother?”

Nix’s expression, more open than he’d ever seen it until that point, closed off in an instant. The boy ducked his head, hair falling over his features. Kenshi’s mouth flattened into a grim frown. Hanzo remained silent, waiting.

“Hey, kiddo,” Nix said, kneeling down in front of Takeda. She offered him a gentle smile and smoothed his hair back from his face. “Why don’t you go talk to those two guys over there. You can ask them about being a ninja.”

He hesitated, glanced worriedly at Hanzo. Not sure what the boy was looking for, he nodded his permission. Takeda’s eyes shot back to Nix.

“You won’t go anywhere?” he asked.

“Nah,” she replied. “We just have to talk about some stuff. Nothing you don’t already know. I promise.”

With a nod, Takeda wandered off to speak to a couple of the teenage Shirai Ryu initiates. Nix straightened again and crossed her arms.

“I guess this is the part where we compare notes,” she said.

She and Kenshi each recounted their side of the gruesome story. Nix’s voice remained even and neutral for her part, but Hanzo could have sworn there was an unusual gleam to her eyes— but perhaps that was just a trick of the light. At the end of the tale, Hanzo turned his gaze on the young Takeda, looking somewhat more lively as he spoke with the other Shirai Ryu.

“Another survivor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how the chapter lengths are feeling, if they're too short or fine as they are.
> 
> Also! Official fanart will be coming out for this fic and for Hollow Bullet pretty soon.


	13. The Good, the Bad, and the Dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix does a lot of talking about "things"... it's not really her forte.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue heavy chapter. No flashbacks this time, either. Sorry that Kenshi and Nix are kind of shitheads to each other but at least they're talking to each other... sort of

“Hey, mom…”

Nix hummed in question as Takeda climbed into bed, wiggling beneath the covers but not lying down yet. His brow was furrowed, mouth drawn in a tight frown and eyes downcast. Even more troubled than he had been that morning. Nix sat on the edge of the mattress next to him, waiting.

“You think we’re safe with him?” he asked.

Nix blinked. “I guess you’re talking about Hanzo?”

She sensed Kenshi’s presence lingering in the doorway, listening. Takeda was too tired to notice. Nix was too focused on Takeda to care. If he wanted to be a creep, that was his prerogative.

“Did you see what he did to those men? He’s a Wraith, from Hell,” Takeda insisted. When she nodded, unconcerned, he only frowned harder. “How do you know him?”

Well-practiced at filtering her answers through a child-acceptable filter, she answered with calm confidence. “I met him back when I still lived with my uncle and brother.”

Takeda narrowed his eyes a little. “You didn’t have friends back then.”

Nix choked on her laugher, even though she knew he was being serious— and brutally accurate, at that. Sometimes that kid was more like her than she expected.

“Well, remember I said he’s  _ kind of _ my friend,” she pointed out. “Hanzo and I met each other a long time ago, but we got along back then.”

Takeda was silent for a few moments, absorbing this. After a second, he glanced up at her again.

“But he’s dangerous.”

“No more dangerous than I am,” she replied. “Actually, he’s probably safer than me. And nicer. We all have things we struggle with, Takeda, but Hanzo’s got his Wraith side under control.”

She smoothed his hair down, smiled a little when his eyelids fluttered sleepily. It had been a long, scary day, and she was sure that he’d be unconscious as soon as his head hit the pillow.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“You trust me, don’t you?” she countered. “You believe me when I say I’ll protect you?”

“Of course!” he cried.

“Well, I trust Hanzo. He’ll keep you safe.”

He sighed and finally laid back, yawning so wide she thought he’d crack his jaw.

“Okay,” he murmured.

She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be up for a little while sorting some things out, but come find me if you need anything, okay?”

He nodded once and closed his eyes, asleep almost instantly. Nix exhaled, took a moment to be grateful and relieved that he was safe and alive. Then she stood and slipped out the door, silently passing Kenshi.

He followed her into the hallway, and when he got too close she spun and clocked him. With no warning from his psychic powers, the blow connected. Kenshi reeled, stepped on his still-healing leg wrong and cursed.

“What the hell was that—”

She curled a fist into the front of his shirt and tugged him forward. “Don’t you  _ ever _ put my son in danger like that again,” she snarled, eyes flashing with magic roiling just beneath the surface.

“I did what I thought was best,” he growled, shoving her back.

She caught herself and straightened, voice cold. “Your best isn’t good enough.” He stiffened, but she continued. “You’re brash and overconfident in your skills. You rely on luck instead of tactical thinking and it could have gotten Takeda killed today.”

He glared. “I’m not going to take criticism from you of all people.”

She arched an eyebrow. It was lost on him, but she didn’t care. “Why, because I’m ‘insane’?” she mocked. “Because I’m Agony? Like it or not, this is what I was trained for.”

“You were trained by Quan Chi.  _ For _ Quan Chi.”

She shrugged. “And? You can ride that moral high horse all you want, but that doesn’t make me any less right about what happened today.”

“Nothing you do is  _ right _ ,” he snapped. “You—”

“Who cares about me?” she interrupted. “All you should concern yourself with right now is Takeda.”

“I am concerned about Takeda,” he insisted. “I’m concerned about him with  _ you _ .”

“I’ve been with him for almost two years and you’ve only known him for a few hours,” she scoffed. “In that time, you’ve barely said two sentences to him. You don’t know anything about him or how I am with him.”

At that, even he had to concede the point in the face of raw facts, as much as he resented it. Nix turned to walk away, sensing the general direction Hanzo was in. They had some things to discuss.

“Like I said,” she called over her shoulder. “Brash and overconfident.”

***

Hanzo seemed to be waiting for her at one of the outdoor sparring rings. There were lanterns posted in the grassed overhead, and the glow of the temple nearby to provide enough light to see (or battle) by. He turned as she approached, a curious tilt to her eyebrows at his relaxed stance despite the purposeful venue choice.

“Like old times?” she asked.

“It seems you need to work out some aggression,” he replied.

She snorted. Had her argument with Kenshi reached him that fast? Damn ninja temples. Rolling her shoulders, she stepped into the ring in nonverbal agreement. They settled into fighting stances on opposite sides, sizing each other up after so long since their last match.

“You are not making this easy on him,” he observed. She had to appreciate that neutrality in his tone. It made her want to entertain this conversation.

“Is it hard for him?” she wondered, even though she knew the answer.

“He lost Suchin just as you did.”

She scrunched up her nose, struck out with her magic and smirked when he blocked it with a wall of fire. They exchanged a few blows before putting some distance between themselves to reassess their strategies. 

“He hadn’t contacted her in over eight years,” she stated.

“That doesn’t mean he felt any less for her,” Hanzo pointed out. “My wife still means everything to me after all this time.”

She grunted, both at his words and the hard blow she had to block. “Your insight is disarming.” At the barest hint of his smile, she grinned and kicked him back a couple feet. “It’s not my job to make things easier on him. It’s my job to keep Takeda safe, and Kenshi jeopardized that today.”

He hummed, seemed to mull that over as they collided again. The next flurry of blows and blocks was harder, an equal exchange of contact that left her panting when they separated. A wild grin stretched her mouth as she eyed him.

“That’s a familiar look,” he said. “Though it’s lost its edge.”

“Are you calling me dull?” she challenged, smirking.

“Hardly.” He shook out one of his wrists as punctuation. “But you have changed.”

“So have you,” she countered.

He inclined his head in acknowledgement, but his expression promised that she wasn’t going to get away with being dismissive. Why was he being so insistent? It was true that they were only “kind of” friends. Nix hadn’t been allowed to be close to anyone except her brother and uncle in Outworld. But then… neither had Hanzo.

Tolerance was basically the same as allianceship in Shao Kahn’s palace. They were the closest things to friends that was possible at that time. Perhaps that was enough.

“What happened?” he asked.

“It’s a long story,” she replied. One she’d never told before. One she wasn’t even sure how to tell. “Nathan and I had a falling out, a… disagreement of ideologies. I was on my own until Suchin and Takeda found me a couple years later.”

“Like a stray cat,” he mused.

She jabbed him in the ribs and rolled her eyes. “Essentially, yes.”

They traded another set of attacks, not putting all their effort into it, but certainly giving each other a challenge. It had been years since her last friendly fight; she’d forgotten how much she enjoyed sparring someone who didn’t want her dead or otherwise.

“Kenshi is his father,” Hanzo pointed out. “Are you going to deny him his own son?”

The shock of that question cost her a hard kick to the stomach. Her back hit the ground, the air forced from her lungs in a rush. She blinked up at the night sky, debating the question more than reeling from the blow, until Hanzo leaned over her and offered a hand.

She accepted with a small frown, brushed herself off as she answered, “It’s not my choice, it’s Takeda’s. If Kenshi wants to be part of his life, then it’s up to Takeda to let him in. But Kenshi needs to be an actual father, not a half-assed tagalong just because he feels obligated.”

Hanzo’s eyebrows shot up, apparently surprised and (dare she think it) impressed. Nix arched one of her own in return, a nonverbal “what?”.

“And where do you fit in?” Hanzo wondered.

She shrugged. “I’m his mom, no matter how much Kenshi hates it.”

Hanzo nodded and stepped back, settling into a fighting stance again. It was time for round two, it seemed. Nix copied him, lashed out first and managed a few good hits in retaliation for the kick before they separated and circled each other.

“He hates it because he doesn’t trust you,” Hanzo stated.

She shrugged. “He probably shouldn’t. I have no loyalty to him.”

Hanzo snorted and went for a leg sweep. Nix jumped and flipped backwards, shooting him a sour look as she landed. She wasn’t used to this much talking (especially on such a serious and deep subject matter) in a match and it was distracting.

“What?” she demanded.

“He only knows you as Agony,” Hanzo explained. “To him, you are Quan Chi’s niece, cruel and insane.”

Narrowing her eyes, she went on the offensive, attacking with the vicious efficiency she was so well known for. She was pulling punches (and kicks) of course, but it was enough to convey her feelings on the subject as Hanzo stumbled back a little. Nix gave him the space so she could express her thoughts.

“I can’t change how he views me and I don’t really care to, either,” she asserted. “There’s no justifying the things I’ve done. I can still be cruel and I might still be insane. I’m not going to try to convince him that I’m anything or anyone else.”

Hanzo straightened from his stance, muscles untensing. It seemed their sparring match was over. For the better, probably. Nix followed suit, trying to decipher his expression without the use of her powers. It was damn near impossible; she could understand the frustration his students must have contended with. 

“You don’t deny that you’ve changed, though,” he pointed out.

She shrugged again. “Yes, I’ve changed but I’m not  _ better _ . Just different than I used to be. I don’t need Kenshi’s approval or trust. I need him to be good for Takeda.”

Hanzo bowed his head a little. “I respect your views, but I suggest that you do not discount the progress you’ve made, either.”

She made a noncommittal noise. Realizing that was the best admission he’d get, Hanzo gestured for her to follow him back into the temple.

They strolled together in silence for a few moments, until they crossed paths with Kenshi once again. He stiffened at her presence, but she no longer had the energy or interest in being aggressive with him. She’d expressed her thoughts and feelings quite eloquently earlier; there was no point in staying angry.

“What are the next steps, regarding Takeda and the Red Dragon?” Hanzo asked.

There was a beat of silence as Nix and Kenshi waited for the other to begin. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair, a little damp with sweat. Might as well answer first, since Takeda was hers. 

“I need Takeda to stay here with you for a little while. Just a month,” she explained. “He already knows, so he should cooperate.”

Hanzo nodded, and she felt something in her chest loosen at his immediate agreement. After seeing him again, she couldn’t think of a better place for Takeda.

Kenshi frowned. “What are you going to do?”

She grimaced, since he couldn’t see the expression to know that she didn’t want to answer. “I made a deal with my brother. My end of that was to go back to him for a month.”

Hanzo frowned. “Why would you do that?”

She didn’t bother sensing out Kenshi’s reaction in his unexpected silence. In fact, she was a little surprised that his only response was the furrow between his brows. Maybe something she’d said earlier had gotten through his thick skull.

“There’s some magic even I can’t beat,” she sighed. “The only way he’d let me go to Suchin and Takeda was to agree to go back to him for a little bit.”

“You’ll be safe with him?” Hanzo inquired and she blinked. She’d expected… more arguing, maybe.

“Uh… yeah. It’s not like he can kill me,” she answered. “Anyway, I’m going to set him on the Red Dragon while I’m there.”

Kenshi shook his head. “You should leave that to Special Forces.”

“I assume that if Special Forces was capable of taking them down, they would have already,” she countered. “They have their hands full with other matters and legal channels are too limiting.”

“So you’re just going to slaughter them all?” he demanded. “You’re going to be judge, jury, and executioner?”

She shrugged and levelled him with all the weight of her cool consideration. “Yes. They don’t deserve any different.”

Stunned silence followed— or at least, Kenshi seemed stunned. Hanzo exhaled and turned to her.

“Will you be able to keep the damage contained?”

She hesitated, unsure if that was a promise she could make. “I’ll try. It’ll be easier if SF stays out of the way.”

They glanced at Kenshi. His expression pinched, conflicted. He must have known she’d be successful in destroying the Red Dragon once she set her mind to it, but his principles were making it difficult to accept her interference. Nix glanced at Hanzo and arched her eyebrows meaningfully.  _ Say something. _

“Nix will follow through with this no matter what,” Hanzo offered. “The best you can do is keep your comrades from getting caught in the crossfire.”

She inclined her head as Kenshi’s shoulders slumped. That had been a good way to put it, and there was more weight to it coming from Hanzo. It wouldn’t sound like her being bloodthirsty and blinded by revenge.

“I’ll think about it,” Kenshi allowed.

Nix nodded. She’d take that over arguing ethics any day. For now, though, she was tired.

“I’m going to clean up and rest. I’ll see you two in the morning.”

With one last wave, she turned on her heel and began navigating the halls with uncanny memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, flashbacks featuring Quan Chi and his relationship with the twins, a discussion between Hanzo and Kenshi, some ground rules, and the return of Nathan.


	14. Scared of the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenshi gains some insight and calms down. Hanzo lays down some hard truth. Nix worries.

**We bow before a fake,**  
**for goodness sake**  
** Where's the pride when we needed it**  
**to carry away?**

Kenshi hardly noticed Agony— Phoenix— _ Nix _ leaving. His mind was clogged with too many thoughts, too many conflicting emotions. She was an impossible personality to fathom. Even if she didn’t have impenetrable mental walls, he doubted his telepathy would help comprehend who or what she was.

One moment she was cold and impersonal, practical to the point of cruelty and yet somehow superior to the pettiness of arguments and debates. The next, she was gentle and warm, doting on Takeda without shame or concern for anyone else watching. And then the next, she was every bit the terrifying presence he remembered from the war, bloodthirsty and sadistic, manic and vicious.

“She’s… she’s not sane,” he managed finally. “She can’t be.”

The way she’d spoken about eradicating the Red Dragon. It was haunting not because she sounded like she’d relish it, but because she’s said it as plain fact. The sky was blue, the grass was green, the Red Dragon Clan would be slaughtered. It was the tone of someone who wasn’t just familiar with murder, but so intimate with it they couldn’t think of a time they didn’t have blood on their hands. And yet she’d healed his leg, despite her clear disdain.

Hanzo grunted. “After all she’s been through, I wouldn’t be surprised. Quan Chi was hardly the adoring guardian she is to Takeda.”

And that was the conflicting crux of it, wasn’t it? For all the rumors Kenshi had heard, for all the impressions of someone who carried the title “Agony, Quan Chi’s niece,” Nix was still a model parent to Takeda. A small part of his mind whispered that she was better at it than he could ever have hoped to be.

“You knew her when you were still Scorpion,” he remembered.

“In a manner,” Hanzo allowed. “When we were introduced, she was recovering from a spell, an experiment inflicted upon her. Her mind was altered, but she might have recovered had the tournament and the war not happened.”

Kenshi’s eyebrows arched. As far as he was aware, she hadn’t participated in the tournament. The war he already knew about, but the events preceding it...

“She’s still committed atrocities without remorse,” he stated. Had even enjoyed it, he was sure. How could a woman like that be trustworthy? How could she be a good influence on his son?

“She’s never denied that,” Hanzo pointed out, “but she also doesn’t do that anymore.”

Because she was so trustworthy? He didn’t say that; it would be an insult to Hanzo’s judgement when he was welcoming her as a guest in his temple. “That doesn’t erase her past.”

Hanzo was unusually calm. “If we withheld forgiveness on that basis, you and I would not be friends.”

Kenshi’s jaw snapped shut with the uncomfortable realization that he was _ right _. Hanzo hadn’t exactly been Quan Chi’s slave, after all. His will had been too strong to turn him into a true Revenant. It was true he’d been heavily manipulated, but there was no doubt that Nix had been too— and likely worse, at that.

“Besides, it’s not as if she’s ever done anything to either of us personally.” He turned to leave as well, to do gods only knew what as grandmaster of ninja assassins. “You’re not exactly making this easy on her. Perhaps there’s another reason for your hostility.”

Kenshi scowled behind his blindfold, feeling like a scolded child. Between Nix’s harsh words earlier and Hanzo’s pointed advice, he felt like a cocky sixteen-year-old all over again. He sighed and ran a hand over his hair. Perhaps sleep would help him sort things out.

His guest room was near Nix and Takeda’s, just down and across the hall. As he passed their door, a vivid image invaded his mind. He was so distracted by the novelty of seeing through someone else’s eyes that he almost didn’t notice the bitter taste of foreign panic and fear on his tongue.

Blurry eyes blinked down at shaking hands, dripping crimson. The sensory memory of pain was so strong that Kenshi doubled over, slumping against the wall nearby. The vision panned up slowly, his own sense of dread gripping him as second-hand numbness set in, muting any other emotion.

The person— and he knew who it had to be, but he shied away from thinking her name— was sitting on the floor. Or collapsed, more accurately. The stone in front of her was splattered in blood, the edge of a golden frame the only clear image. Her eyes drifted up slowly, and he realized that she was looking into some sort of warped, magic mirror.

Nix sat before it and stared back at herself, crumpled on her knees. There were cuts and bruises everywhere on her body, soaking her white clothes scarlet. Her hair was plastered to her face with sweat and blood and her eyes were wide, almost vacant, tears brimming and dripping. She couldn’t have been older than thirteen or fourteen. Her whole body was trembling and hitching with suppressed sobs.

And then her gaze dropped to the still, lifeless form in front of her own. Kenshi recognized the pale purple hair and the line of the corpse’s jaw at the same time Nix did. There was a sticky pool expanding from a dagger buried in her chest. Confused panic filled both of them before a flicker of movement drew the living-Nix’s eyes.

A third doppelganger stood behind her shoulder. There were restless shadows swimming across her face, eyes glowing with dark glee. She raised a bloodied finger to her lips and shushed the original around a sinister grin.

Kenshi was knocked out of the memory with enough force that he felt it like a punch to the gut. She must have woken up. He stumbled down the corridor before she could realize he’d been privy to— what the _ fuck _had that been? Some sort of nightmare?

He choked down bile as he all but fell into his room. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, and he wasn’t sure if it was a leftover from her emotional state or his own reaction. Something about that had felt too real, too vivid. Could it have been a memory? As much as he disliked Nix and her ethics, he didn’t wish that on anyone. Especially not the child she’d been in that vision.

He dropped onto the edge of his bed and pressed the heels of his hands to his sightless eyes, trying to forget what he’d witnessed. Hanzo’s words played on a loop over them. _ After all she’s been through... Quan Chi was hardly the adoring guardian… _

Kenshi breathed deeply for a few moments, modified meditation as he forced his body to calm so that his mind would follow. Slowly, the images stopped swarming. The panic ebbed away, leaving him exhausted enough to attempt sleep. He stripped from his tac gear, laid Sento against the side of the bed and tumbled onto the covers.

Sleep came, but not peacefully.

Nix stayed at the Shirai Ryu temple for three days. She helped Takeda settle, soothed him through nightmares, and offered support as he made tentative friends with ninja trainees similar to his own age. Hanzo and Kenshi stalked them, for lack of a better time. “Observed” might have been more accurate had half that party not been _ blind _, but—

Okay, she was mature enough to admit that was petty. 

Despite her first assessment, Kenshi was… actually kind of competent. Not with children, surely, but as a martial artist, swordsman, and self-taught telepath she couldn’t deny that he had talent and dedication. Especially considering he’d developed his disability as a young man, and therefore had had less time to adapt to it.

Even so…

“You are… very small for your age.”

Nix pinched the bridge of her nose, some bizarre mixture of entertained and exasperated. At the moment, she was keeping her distance, watching what was perhaps the most awkward conversation she’d ever witnessed. Takeda and Kenshi were facing each other with a stiff tension more appropriate for business associates than an estranged father and son.

Takeda squinted up at him. “How can you tell? Aren’t you blind?”

Which was definitely rude, even if Nix thought it was funny. Suchin would have fussed at him for saying it, and then at her for no doubt influencing him into it. On those grounds alone, Nix probably should have said something. But she was committed to not interfering. Besides, it would be more interesting to see Kenshi’s reaction…

Which was apparently to clear his throat and forge ahead with the conversation.

“Well… yes, but I don’t necessarily need eyes to see,” he began.

“And what are you comparing me to, anyway?” Takeda asked. “Do you spend a lot of time around kids?”

Nix bit her lip hard to keep from laughing outright, but she was sure her amusement was loud and clear from the way Kenshi shot her a brief, irate scowl. Hanzo had given her shit for making things hard on him, but Takeda was ruthless.

“Not… really,” Kenshi managed, “but compared to me at your age…”

She glanced over as Hanzo joined her, arching a single eyebrow at the smirk she couldn’t help.

“Would it be merciful to put him out of his misery?”

He snorted. “Which one?”

She coughed to cover her chuckle, but cut herself off when she noticed Hanzo’s more-solemn-than-usual expression.

“What is it?” she asked.

“You have that deal to maintain with your brother.”

She sighed, eyes flicking back to Kenshi and Takeda. It felt too soon to leave, but she knew that Nathan would be get antsy if he wasn’t already. He knew she always kept her promises, but it wouldn’t be out of character for him to send a “reminder.”

“I’ll leave tomorrow morning,” she replied, “after breakfast. I’ll be back in exactly thirty days.”

Hanzo made a noise of agreement, turning his own gaze to Takeda and Kenshi. The conversation didn’t seem to be improving, but Nix couldn’t find as much joy in it with the reminder of her brother.

“Takeda would make an excellent Shirai Ryu.”

Nix frowned, brows twitching together. “I suppose...”

Hanzo shot her a sideways look. “Allow me to train him.”

Her head snapped to the side so fast that it made her dizzy. Or maybe it was just the shock. It took more self-control than she would have liked to contain her voice.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she demanded. “He’s a child.”

Hanzo was unfazed, as always. “There have been Shirai Ryu initiates younger than him.”

“That’s not the point,” she hissed, turning to face him. “Children shouldn’t be assassins. A ten-year-old shouldn’t know what a punch to the gut feels like. Hanzo, knowing me and my history, how could you possibly think I would agree to that?”

He uncrossed his arms as he turned to face her as well, the two of them staring each other down in one of the courtyards. Thank fuck there weren’t many other ninjas training at that moment. They would have drawn a scene, and this was a conversation better kept between the two of them.

“Knowing you is why I suggest it in the first place,” Hanzo replied, voice hard but not unkind. “The reason you’re here at all is why you should agree. Given who you are, he is in danger. You can’t always protect him so you should give him the ability to protect himself.”

Her teeth clicked together as her jaw snapped shut, mind blanking out. He’d actually stunned her into silence. Hanzo took that opportunity to continue.

“I appreciate your reservations and your hesitation to teach him yourself, but it is irresponsible to leave him so vulnerable.”

He… he was right. Nix didn’t have it in herself to train Takeda. Not the way he needed to be effective in a proper battle. The altercation with the Red Dragon had proven that. He knew the bare minimum of self-defense, and that wasn’t enough for the kind of people that would want to hurt him.

“I’m not abandoning him here to become Shirai Ryu,” she stated. “I do plan on coming back. He’s still my son.”

Hanzo nodded. “You won’t be Shirai Ryu, but you… are welcome here.”

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, considering. Takeda was watching them, had probably sensed her restless mental state. It would have to be his choice. Just like with Kenshi’s role in his life, if Takeda wanted to be Shirai Ryu, then she wouldn’t stop him.

“Besides, he’s more like you than you realize,” Hanzo said. “He knows his mother’s death was no accident, and vengeance without discipline is just mindless destruction.”

She hummed. He’d know that better than anyone. Nix had been Takeda’s age when she and Nathan had lost their parents, their home, their whole dimension. They’d never really gotten the chance to grieve over that, and by the time they could have, those things had meant nothing anymore.

Apart from that, Suchin was the first person Nix had ever really lost. She was going to get her revenge, but not through wanton bloodshed. Not at the expense of everyone and everything that got in her way. There would be reason and sense behind the slaughter, and no pain for the sake of her own enjoyment. That was an ethos she’d had to develop on her own, and slowly at that. She didn’t want Takeda to walk that same path when he was made of different stuff than her.

“Alright,” she huffed. “If Takeda wants to, you can train him— but I have conditions.”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes. “I train the Shirai Ryu as I see fit.”

She arched an eyebrow. “He’s my son.”

They glared at each other for another beat before he grunted and crossed his arms. “What are your conditions?”

She didn’t grin in triumph; there was always the chance he’d argue with her. “No weapons yet— at least not in sparring. You can _ introduce _him to knives, but that’s it.”

Hanzo made an irate noise, but inclined his head.

“Don’t let him go too hard. You’re right that he’s a lot like me, which means he might try to push himself too far, too fast. Don’t let him.”

“I am not a negligent teacher,” he snapped.

“Okay, but you also have a penchant for being intense,” she countered. “An eight-year-old _ should not collapse from exhaustion _.”

He blinked. “Very well.”

She ran a hand down her face, already having second thoughts. How had she become the one worried for safety? Gods, she missed Suchin.

Takeda agreed, of course. And by “agreed” she meant he jumped up and down in a circle chanting “ninja” while she tried not to regret Hanzo’s friendship. If anything, the announcement that he’d be training with the Shirai Ryu softened the news that she had to leave the next morning. He wasn’t pleased, but at least he’d have an outlet for his emotions, and something other than school to keep him busy.

He raced off to inform the new friends he’d made, leaving Kenshi and Nix in awkward silence.

“I approve,” he said. “Fighting is in Takeda’s blood.”

She didn’t respond verbally, but she did shoot him a withering look. He wouldn’t know it, which was why she did it in the first place. They’d hardly spoken since that first day, except for him to assure her that he’d keep SF out of the way while she dismantled the Red Dragon clan.

“Will you be staying?” she asked, instead of telling him where he could shove his approval.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “I should return to SF since my mission failed.”

“You’re only affiliated with them, aren’t you?” she asked. It was the first interest she’d shown in him since they’d met. “You’re not actually in their chain of command.”

“Not officially, no,” he confirmed.

“You said ‘should,’ not that you would,” she observed. “Do you want to stay?”

He turned towards her, wary confusion on his face. “Why do you ask?”

She sucked her teeth. “I want to know if I should mentally prepare Takeda for you to disappear again. I don’t know how he feels about you, but you came in saying ‘I’m your father’ right after he lost his mother. That’s going to affect him no matter what.”

Kenshi stiffened. “I _ am _ his father. I care for his well-being.”

“Out of obligation or genuine love and interest?” she wondered.

His scowled. “Who the hell do you think—”

“I’m not trying to start a fight, believe it or not,” she interrupted. The expression on his face said he didn’t believe her. “I want you to reflect on your own emotions before you make a choice.”

Hanzo’s words from that first night echoed in her head. _ You’re not making this easy on him _. As reluctant as Nix was to admit it, she and Kenshi shared the same loss as Takeda. That had to mean something, even if she wasn’t sure what. She forced her tone to soften.

“If you need to leave again because you’re not ready for a child, I respect that,” she offered, “not that my respect matters. Takeda will understand if you explain it to him. He’s gone this long without a father.”

Kenshi arched an eyebrow. “You’d like that, I’m sure,” he scoffed, though it lacked heat. It seemed like he was… testing her, maybe? Or gauging her response. Hard to say. Nix didn’t care for games like that anymore.

“I only want what’s best for Takeda,” she admitted. “If that means you’re in his life, then I welcome you by all means… but _ you _ have to be ready and dedicated. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Kenshi hesitated, brow furrowed but not with anger. He inclined his head after a long, silent moment. “I think I get it. I don’t have an answer yet.”

She hummed and nodded. “I would be uneasy if you did,” she replied. It was the longest conversation they’d had since meeting, and it hadn’t even devolved into an argument. Narrowly, granted, but she figured someone might call that progress— though she had no idea what they’d be progressing towards.

That open-ended thought made her blurt, “I leave tomorrow morning.”

Kenshi turned towards her, eyebrows arching over the band covering his eyes. “Oh?”

“Ah, what I mean is that if you end up leaving, you should wait a week or two so that it’s not such a shock to Takeda,” she explained.

He nodded, expression smoothing out as he faced forwards again. Silence stretched between them. Before it could get too awkward, Takeda ran over, jumping up so she could catch him midair in a hug.

“Are you two fighting again?” he asked.

She blinked and she swore she saw the start of a blush on Kenshi’s cheeks. Glancing away, she shook her head.

“Not this time,” she admitted. Now that she thought about it… Kenshi was acting markedly different than he had the first day. Maybe the paranoia of “she’s going to kill me” had finally worn off.

Takeda snorted. “The Grandmaster says you two should work it out in a sparring ring.”

Nix laughed. “He would.” She thought she heard Kenshi snort softly in amusement.

“Would it help?”

She glanced at Kenshi, a bit of intuition prickling at her that she refused to analyze.

“That might just cause more problems.”

*THEN*

_ The twins were rarely permitted in their uncle’s study. While his workshop was more or less open to them, Quan Chi’s study was off limits. There were too many artifacts they could break, too many important documents they could scatter. But after a long and tedious meeting, he’d gestured for Nix to follow him inside and she’d swallowed her shock to obey. _

_ It hadn’t changed much from her childhood, the few memories she had of it. There was an enormous fireplace against one wall, flanked with ancient tomes that revolved around magic— whether it be spell instructions, history, or the records and journals of other magicians. Along the other walls were the aforementioned important artifacts, some of them so strange-looking that they defied description. _

_ His desk was as long as she was tall, and he slumped behind it in an ornate chair carved with what she recognized as bone, inlaid with metal and gems. Nix stood at the side of his desk, hands folded neatly in front of her, a rune-shape to help calm her nerves and confusion. Her uncle hadn’t spoken since he’d sat several minutes earlier. _

_ “Phoenix,” he began finally, “be a dear and procure tea.” _

_ “What kind of tea, uncle?” she asked, magic already gathering at her fingertips. _

_ He waved a hand. “Something medicinal. I have a splitting headache.” _

_ A steaming teacup was in front of him in a moment, purple sparks dissipating in the air around it. He hummed at the first sip, set the cup in its saucer again. _

_ “Well made,” he said. Nix ducked her head, pleased to have won a compliment for such a simple task. Her eyes darted up again as he sighed heavily, nearly a groan. “That was a waste of our time.” _

_ She blinked. While she had been in the same meeting (and also bored out of her mind) her uncle had never used “our” so casually before. Nor had he ever been so free in expressing emotion, even frustration. Lacking an appropriate response, she made a vague noise. _

_ “If I trusted your brother to be diplomatic, I would send him on such errands,” he continued. _

_ She cleared her throat carefully. “You do not trust him, uncle?” _

_ He snorted, which shocked her as much as anything else he’d done in the last several moments. “He is brash and impatient. He fails to rely on technique or finesse, and is quick to anger. You can reign him in, but you are not ready to oversee such meetings yet.” _

_ She inclined her head. “As you say, uncle.” _

_ His gaze settled on her, contemplative. “How are your wounds healing?” _

_ Her hand twitched to her abdomen, where a lucky knife had clipped her during a mission earlier that week. It was the worst of the injuries she’d sustained, though she’d had other scrapes and cuts that needed treatment. _

_ “It is healing well,” she answered. “It should be gone in a few more days.” _

_ Quan Chi hummed. “Lucky it avoided your face,” he remarked, “or our guests might not have been so enamoured with you today.” _

_ Nix couldn’t suppress the shock that high-jacked her expression, eyes wide and lips parted. He only chuckled and arched an eyebrow. _

_ “You failed to notice, my dear empath?” _

_ She swallowed and ducked her head. “Ah, I am afraid I was not listening…” _

_ Quan Chi stood and Nix cast her eyes to the stone floor, stepping back to give him room to maneuver around the desk. He stopped barely more than two feet from her. Her heart thumped hard and fast against her ribcage. She clasped her hands behind her back to resist the urge to fidget or preemptively protect her injured side. _

_ When he raised a hand, she couldn’t keep her eyes from squeezing shut or her expression from pinching, though she managed to keep still. To her shock, his palm settled on her head instead, fingers threading through the silky strands of her hair. _

_ “You should know by now, to never trust anyone,” he intoned. “You have a rare and powerful gift. Do not squander it with naivete.” _

_ “Y-yes, uncle,” she replied, “but… what about you?” _

_ “Hmm?” _

_ “You said not to trust anyone,” she clarified. “Does that include you?” _

_ His hand fell from her hair and Nix told herself she didn’t miss it. Magic crackled in the air and Quan Chi stepped around her, place a hand on her shoulder. She raised her head, followed the trail of magic to an object in the middle of the room, covered in a shroud. A corner of gold peeked out from the cloth. _

_ “What is that?” she asked. _

_ “Your next training exercise,” he replied. _

_ She glanced at him over her shoulder, eyes questioning. The urge to ask outright was on the tip of her tongue, but she held it. She would gain clarity as the lesson progressed. _

_ He nodded towards it, the corners of his mouth quirked. “Go and pull the sheet off.” _

_ “And then?” Usually he gave very clear and complicated instructions. _

_ “Look into it. You’ll require no further direction after that.” _

*NOW*

Nix needed an hour after she left the Shirai Ryu temple. Needed the time and space away from Hanzo and Kenshi and, as much as it pained her, Takeda. She’d promised Nathan that it would be just like the old days. That meant she had to become the person she used to be, had to remember what that was like.

Alone in a hotel bathroom, she stared herself down in the mirror. It wasn’t the scariest mirror she’d ever looked into, certainly, and yet her arms felt unsteady as she leaned against the counter.

“You’re not going to forget who you are,” she told herself. “You’re not going to go back to that.”

She inhaled, slow and deep and frowned at herself. There was an unfamiliar fear in her eyes. She’d felt more of it in the last week than she had in the last ten years, and it left her feeling drained. Vulnerable. Suchin would have told her that was a good sign.

“I promise I’m still going to be good for him when this is over.”

Standing back, she snapped her fingers, comfortable clothes melting away to the deadly finery she’d once worn as a second skin. She smoothed her features into cool, perpetual amusement. Recalled the rush of power she’d always felt running the syndicate, the thrill of someone else’s terror at her own hand. Nix shuddered, but forced herself to remember how she’d loved it.

She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or frustrated that it felt like an ill-fitting coat after so long. Nevertheless, she donned it. Let the weight of that persona settle over her shoulders, drape alone her spine. As a last thought, she slipped the ring from her pinky finger and hid it in a pocket dimension where it would be safe until she could wear it again.

Then she opened a portal and stepped into the world she’d left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, they're finally talking like adults... now they just have to actually like each other. Yikes...
> 
> Also, idk how I forgot to mention this, but my tumblr is charliemwrites if y'all want to stop by with requests or feedback or just to chat.
> 
> Next chapter: Nix and Nathan being siblings, and Kenshi trying to be a dad.


	15. Femme Fatale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenshi does Nix a favor and she's not sure how to respond. They have an actual conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress with their relationship at last! Nix almost made it impossible, but we worked things out.

Considering how powerful and paranoid a man like Nathan was, Kenshi had expected better security. Then again, the man was a psychic magician, and essentially invincible (or at least unkillable) on top of that. With his sister (temporarily) at his side again, there was even less reason to waste money on strict, high-end security. It made sense that his safety was low on the priority list when his greatest threat was his own ally.

Even so, it was almost laughable. All Kenshi had to do was steal a uniform and mask his own telepathic presence. As mediocre as his skills were compared to theirs, he was adept at hiding his abilities from other psychics, especially when they weren’t  _ looking _ . A pair of shades to mask his nonreactive eyes (that no one even questioned) and an elevator ride later, and Kenshi was slipping into the twins’ (unlocked!) empty penthouse.

Finding Nix’s room took a little more investigative work. It was a scent that clued him in. Even after only two weeks, her room smelled overwhelmingly of her— petrichor and heady incense and something floral. Kenshi closed the door behind him and perched on the edge of the plush, oversized bed to wait.

It took about an hour and a half for them to return. Though sound was severely muffled, he was able to hear the dual tones of a conversation, though all the nuance of tone was lost. Nix’s presence approached the door and he padded on silent feet to the wall next to it, so that he’d be hidden when it swung in. The door cracked open, the tail-end of their conversation flooding in.

“... you’re fine?” Nathan was asking.

Nix sucked her teeth. “It’s nothing worse than what I got in Hong Kong,” she replied, then added something in a language that sounded almost-but-not-quite like English.

“Alright, alright,” he huffed, sounding amused. “So cranky.”

“I liked this shirt,” she complained, “and the dry blood is starting to itch.”

Nathan chuckled, sounding almost delighted by her blase tone. “Then go shower, you smell nasty anyway.”

“No, that’s just your attitude.” Nix shut the door as he dissolved into outright laughter.

As soon as she had privacy, she groaned to herself. She took a couple steps and then froze. The air shifted as she whipped around, the tingle of magic igniting across his skin before disappearing just as quickly.

“What the  _ fuck _ are you doing here?”

To his shock, she didn’t sound as enraged as he’d expected. She sounded… exhausted, strained. He could smell the coppery tang of blood in the air, and it seemed fresh. Not for the first time, he wished he could see her expression, get some sort of input other than her tone.

“A few reasons,” he offered, before adding, “Are you alright?”

She snorted. “I’m fine. We did a raid on a Red Dragon stronghold and I got a little too carried away.” Then, before he could inquire further, “Look, whatever you want will have to wait. I need a shower.”

Then she stalked off. A door opened to his right, then closed. Unnecessary except to emphasize that he was unwelcome. The sound of running water began a moment later, followed by the muggy humidity of steam clinging to his skin. Kenshi dropped onto the bed again to wait. Oddly enough, it didn’t last long before the pipes squeaked off and the door reopened.

“Alright,” she said, still from the doorway. There was a rustling, likely her towel. “Why the fuck would you risk coming here? You said there was more than one reason.”

Kenshi was still debating which one to offer first when she hissed. It would have been imperceptible to anyone with weaker hearing, and it was a sound of pain. The scent of copper bloomed fresh in the air; she was bleeding. A lot. He was up before he thought twice, though he didn’t step closer just yet.

“You’re injured.”

There was a beat of silence that felt grudging. “Yes,” she said, though he hadn’t been asking.

He arched an eyebrow “Are you just going to leave it?” Even though it likely wouldn’t kill her, it had to hurt and it would weaken her. He’d thought she was more practical than that.

Her next response came through gritted teeth. “It’s in a shitty spot. Can’t reach it on my own.”

And she wasn’t about to ask for help. For pride or distrust or habit? Kenshi was willing to guess it was some combination thereof. Well… he’d made a promise, both to himself and Takeda. Time to make good on it.

“I could patch you up, if you want,” he offered.

He could  _ feel _ her frown. “You’re blind.” It sounded like an excuse to say no— and she hadn’t even said no outright. Maybe if he urged just a little more…?

“I usually do my own first-aid,” he explained, “and I think we both know that I’m more than capable despite my condition.”

She remained silent. Was all this even for anything? Every step felt like an uphill battle for some foggy goal. But he didn’t want to smell blood the whole time they spoke, and it was likely to only make her mood worse.

“No matter what you should get it looked at,” he said. “You could always ask your brother.”

That seemed to decide her.

“Fine,” she sighed, the single syllable dripping with aggravation. “Let me get the kit.”

A cabinet thumped open, she hissed again as she rummaged for something, the cabinet snapped closed. Kenshi received a vivid mental image a second later, as she peered into a mirror. There was a nasty laceration that started at the muscle where her neck met her shoulder, then snaked down to her shoulder blade. There was another below it that slanted parallel and almost reached her spine. He sucked in a breath.

“That looks like it hurts,” he said, voice even despite how his mind reeled. Though it didn’t look like it had knicked bone, it had to be excruciating. He was reminded of that vision he’d seen that first night, of her and that mirror. It haunted him still. 

“Let’s do this on the bed so that you have room,” she replied.

She settled away from the edge, so that nothing would fall off. Kenshi followed after her, let her rearrange herself so that he had the best vantage and angle. She set the first aid kid down by his leg, sent another picture of the contents and its exact organization.

“All set?” she asked.

“You sound like you’re about to be waterboarded,” he scoffed. Then again, maybe allowing anyone to control her pain levels was its own sort of torture. The thought made him wince, grateful she couldn’t see his face.

He touched her arm, didn’t miss the barest twitch in the muscle beneath his sensitive fingertips. “I’ll make it quick. In the meantime, I can tell you why I’m here.”

She hummed in agreement. Kenshi plucked up the suturing needle and thread, already sterile and prepared, and got to work starting with the one at the top of her shoulder.

“So, the one you’re not going to like is that SF is part of the reason I’m here,” he began. She tensed beneath his hands and he paused, knowing that it would feel worse if he continued.

“They agreed to stay out of the way, but they wanted me here as a precaution. To keep civilian casualties to a minimum in case you couldn’t,” he explained. When he sensed that she’d processed and accepted that, he murmured, “Try to relax the muscle again.”

With a slow exhale, she did exactly that, and Kenshi resumed without comment. A few moments passed in silence, not tense but not comfortable either. Could that be counted as progress?

“What are the other reasons?” she asked finally.

He hummed. “Well, there’s only one, really. Takeda.”

Her head snapped to the side, but the action pulled at her wound and the newly placed stitches and she flinched.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “Is he alright?”

Kenshi nodded. “He’s just worried about you. He asked me to come and make sure nothing happened to you.”

Already a little late for that, but at least he was helping her clean up in the aftermath. He knew that she healed quickly, but not instantaneously. Kenshi had the sick feeling she would have bled out on her sheets until the wound eventually closed— whenever that would have been.

“That kid is something else,” she chuckled. “How is he doing with Hanzo’s training?”

Kenshi hesitated a beat. She was dangerous, but… well, Hanzo could handle her. Probably.

“He’s determined,” he offered, “and he uses everything you’ve already taught him. Didn’t help so much in his first match though.”

“Match?” she asked, voice a pitching a note higher than usual. “He’s already sparring?”

“Yeah, it was a little rough, but he wasn’t discouraged.”

She was sitting very still. “What do you mean by ‘rough’?”

He sent a silent apology to Hanzo before answering. “Well, another student broke his nose.”

“ _ What _ ?!” She didn’t wait for him to repeat himself. “I’m going to kill Hanzo.”

Coming from anybody else, it would be an empty, hot-headed threat. From Nix, however…

“He sent Takeda to the infirmary as soon as he lost the match,” he added. Maybe it would help?

Her silence was worrisome. He only knew she hadn’t teleported off to reap vengeance because she was still tethered by the suturing thread. After another moment of internal debate, Kenshi opened his mouth again with the hope she wouldn’t clock him.

“You know he’s going to get injured,” he reminded. “He won’t learn anything otherwise, and he’s already showing improvement.”

“He’s  _ eight _ .”

“And  _ you _ are his mom,” he reminded. “It’s necessary for his safety; evil people don’t care that he’s a kid. At least he’s getting these injuries with allies, so that when it stuns him the first time, it won’t be fatal.”

She exhaled again, but there was a weary set to her shoulders. He took that to be silent resignation. It was weird to feel like he was right for once. For all his righteousness in their previous arguments, he’d always ended up feeling like a fool.

The first wound was finished in the silence that followed. Kenshi shifted further behind her, recalling the image she’d sent him from the bathroom mirror. Following the mental map, he tracked a slow path with two fingers to the beginning of the second slash and traced its length as gently as he could. Along the way, he encountered the raised and smooth edges of scars. Too many to count already.

It couldn’t have been comfortable, but Nix only sat beneath his touch. There wasn’t a noise of complaint or pain. There wasn’t even a change in her breathing. Actually… she might not have been breathing at all.

“What were you saying to your brother earlier?” he asked, returning to the top of the wound to begin.

“Hm?”

“When he asked if you were alright,” he clarified. “I don’t think it’s any language I’ve heard before. It sounded almost like English.”

“Oh, um… I said, 'stop treating me like glass'.” She cleared her throat as the needle bit into her skin. “Nathan and I come from a different dimension.” And instead of pausing to let him swallow that bomb, she continued. “We came through a portal to Quan Chi when we were kids. My theory is that our world and yours just developed differently, so our version of English did too.”

Kenshi kept working, but only barely. Kids. Just kids.

_ He’s eight. _

“How old were you?” he couldn’t stop himself from wondering aloud.

She twitched. “I can’t really remember… eight or nine, maybe.”

And how long had she lived in Outworld with Quan Chi? Most of her life, from what he understood. She only had the opportunity to get free when the war began. All that time under the sorcerer’s thumb... 

“Kenshi.” She shifted. “What I was— what I  _ am _ — that wasn’t all Quan Chi. I earned my codename by my own merit, not just by obeying his orders.”

Kenshi froze, not sure how to react to that. It was like he’d been doused in ice cold water. He was suddenly,  _ violently  _ reminded of who he was sewing together. How many people had she killed in her lifetime? How many people had she done worse to? What had she done that day alone, getting vengeance on the Red Dragon? In the week since she'd left the Shirai Ryu temple?

“That’s good enough,” she said pulling away from his hands.

The wound could have only been half closed, but Kenshi couldn’t find it in himself to insist on finishing. The mattress shifted as she climbed off, feet near silent as she walked across the room and slid a drawer open. The rustle of clothes followed. Kenshi was still stuck on the bed, trying to recover.

“If my brother finds out who you are and why you’re here, you’ll live to regret it,” she said. Her voice was neutral again. “You should try to complete your mission from a safe distance.”

Kenshi inhaled and exhaled slowly, schooling his thoughts as he ignored the clear dismissal.

_ “Mom thinks she’s worse than she is,”  _ Takeda had said, “ _ She doesn’t lie, but sometimes you gotta pay attention to other stuff too.” _

After a week to himself, Kenshi had started reforming his view of Nix. What had become clear (perhaps the only thing that was clear) was this: she wasn’t the cold-hearted sadist he’d first encountered in the war. She adored Takeda as her own son. She was grieving over Suchin’s death. She was friends with Hanzo. She wasn’t Quan Chi’s niece anymore; she wasn’t Agony.

Somewhere along the way, Nix had begun to change. The decades of abuse and conditioning didn’t excuse or justify the atrocities she’d committed, and she didn’t pretend that they did, either. But it did mean that the changes she was making (changes for the better) would be gradual and difficult. If anything… she could probably use a bit of a moral compass. A subtle one, anyway.

So Kenshi stood and crossed his arms. “I’m not.”

“What?”

“I’m not staying at a safe distance,” he clarified. “I’m going to be in the thick of it with you.”

“I don’t have time or energy to babysit you.” She was trying to make her voice cold, but there was an undertone he couldn’t identify just yet. Something uncertain. “You’re going to get injured or killed.”

Kenshi arched an eyebrow in return. “That’ll be my problem, then, won’t it,” he replied.

There was a beat of silence, a flicker of emotion she let slip, probably because she was so exhausted. It felt like confusion, maybe even worry.

“N-no. No!” she managed, voice taking on an irritated edge as she continued, “How do you even plan on rationalizing your presence? Nathan will kill you or worse. I refuse to be blamed because you’re too stupid to take good advice.”

And ouch, that was rude, but that was why she’d said it. It was almost… well, not endearing or sweet, but it was  _ something _ that she was trying to protect him in her own awkward, thorny, half-hearted way. Kenshi shrugged it off, both physically and mentally and smirked at her.

“I’ll just be brash and overconfident and rely on luck,” he shot back. “All you have to do is go along with it.”

She huffed, and it almost sounded like a chuckle. “You’re insane.”

“Makes two of us I guess.”

Nix groaned. He sensed a crackle of magic nearby, the sound of a portal opening just next to him. “Just get out so I can rest, and try not to walk into traffic.”

Kenshi ducked his head, hiding a triumphant smirk as he turned away. “Be seeing you soon.”

“Haha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this story is going to end up like... much longer than I thought this would be when I originally decided to do a Kenshi fic. This is probably going to be the longest in the series. However! They will get together long before the end, I assure you. 
> 
> My tumblr is charliemwrites if you want to stop by, say hi, chat, or request anything.


	16. I Did Something Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An partial explanation for Kenshi's appearance last chapter and a peek into a non-angsty piece of Nix's past.

**And when the ashes spread apart  
It is then I'll take out his heart**

*ONE WEEK EARLIER*

“There you are!” Nathan grinned from the couch where he lounged, a half-finished milkshake sweating on the table in front of him. “I was starting to think you’d back out.”

Nix rolled her eyes, flicked a little shock of electricity at him and swiped his drink, took her time sucking down a few mouthfuls. It was just how he always liked it— chocolate with two shots of vodka. She ignored the pang of complicated nostalgia that struck at the first taste. Nate eyed her with silent amusement until she’d had her fill.

“Don’t be fucking rude,” she drawled, “I don’t break promises.”

He huffed. There was a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Forgive the insult,” he offered, “we didn’t part on pleasant terms last time. I wasn’t sure you wouldn’t make an exception.”

Nix tamped down the flare of anger and indignation his accusation ignited. Pointing out that their last disastrous “conversation” was his fault would do nothing. It would just start another argument, maybe even a fight. More ugly painful emotions, resentment and betrayal. That went against her promise, so she kept her expression cool.

“We didn’t part on speaking terms the time before that, so I suppose that was an improvement, hm?”

He arched an eyebrow as he stood and crossed the short distance between them. Nix set the glass on the table again, tilted her head to meet his gaze straight on. Sometime during their teen years he’d outgrown her, but that didn’t mean he could intimidate her.

“I had to force you to come back.”

“But I’m here,” she replied, chin lifting a fraction. “So do you want to keep sulking, or do you want to have some  _ fun _ ?”

There was a beat of silence as they stared each other down. Then a huge smile spread across his face as he swept her up in a suffocating hug. Her arms curled around his shoulders in return, surprised by the warmth that diffused through her.

Her heart ached. Ever after everything, even with all the bad blood between them, she’d still missed her brother’s hugs.

“Welcome back,” he said.

Nix hummed as he set her on her feet again, finally cracking a smile. “You ruined the decor while I was away.”

He laughed. “Stuff gets destroyed or stained, and I can’t be bothered with replacements. We can’t all have your eye for interior design.”

She snorted. “Clearly.”

Nate took her hand, set it in the crook of his elbow and began leading her for the front door. Nix didn’t resist; didn’t have any reason to. Things were supposed to be like they used to be, and she’d never been suspicious of his motives back then.

“Where to?” she asked, keeping her tone curious and casual.

“Need to get you up to speed,” he explained, “and then we can raise hell.”

She nodded. “Good, because someone’s made trouble with me, and I want your help making them pay.”

Nate’s eyes lit up neon green as they stepped into the elevator together. “It would be my pleasure, dear sister.”

*THEN*

_ “Can you even breathe in that?” _

_ Nix glanced over her shoulder at Nate, standing in the doorway dressed in his own formal regalia. It wasn’t much better than hers… but oh, how she envied his pants and sensible boots. Not that she was unaccustomed to skirts, even impractical ones. However, the one they’d crammed her into for this event was… well. _

_ “Only just,” she replied, turning back to the mirror. _

_ He shook his head, started to cross his arms until one of the servants attending to Nix fussed about wrinkles and creases. All but growling his frustration, he dropped his arms to his sides and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. _

_ “How long do we have to stay, again?” he asked. _

_ Nix sighed. “For all of it, unless Uncle excuses us early.” _

_ Nate swore in their English. Quan Chi was the only other person who could understand it, and he still seemed to be elsewhere getting ready. _

_ “What are we even supposed to be celebrating, anyway?” Nathan groaned. _

_ She sucked her teeth. “It is the anniversary of Shao Kahn’s coronation. Really, Nathan, there have been preparations for over a month and you had no clue what it was for?” _

_ He snorted. “I had more important demands for my attention.” _

_ Nix shook her head, which sent up a chorus of protests from her attending handmaids. Especially the one trying to lay and clip the headpiece over her hair. As the cool metal settled against her forehead, she went near cross-eyed glaring at the jewel that dangled between her eyebrows. _

_ “This is going to irritate me all night.” _

_ Nathan arched an eyebrow. “Just that?” _

_ Her formal wear was even more restrictive than her usual. The bodice constricted half her lung capacity. The skirt reached the floor even in her heels, split up to her hips in several places and threatened indecency with any careless step. The metal bracelets around her limbs were heavy and rigid; she wouldn’t be surprised if her thick collar necklace bruised her clavicles.  _

_ “Fair point.” _

_ The headpiece was finally secured, delicate curling tendrils studded in black stones and white jewels. Just as it was placed, she sensed their uncle summoning them; the event would begin soon. She waved off the servants still fidgeting with insignificant details, knowing that a collective nervousness kept them swarmed. As she turned, Nathan straightened and smoothed the front of his tunic and vest. _

_ “How much does that ridiculous outfit weigh?” she wondered, arching an eyebrow. _

_ His clothes were only slightly more practical than hers, styled to (vaguely) resemble Kombat gear. There was braided rope circling one shoulder, attaching a thick cape that draped over one side of his body. Engraved metal plating sat on the other side of his chest, beneath the laces of his boots up his shins, threaded over the black leather of his vambraces. _

_ “Too much,” he groaned. When she was close enough, she tapped at the piece on his chest, smirking when he swatted at her hand. _

_ “How much would you like to bet Uncle is wearing half that?” she teased. _

_ He scrunched his nose. “That would be a waste of my money.” _

_ The corners of her mouth curled up as he offered his arm. She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her through a portal to their uncle, waiting for them with his hands clasped behind his back. Sure enough, most of his abdomen was bare, despite the ceremonial dressings he’d donned. She squeezed Nate’s arm, though her expression didn’t betray her amusement. _

_ “Niece, nephew,” he greeted, giving them an approving once over. _

_ “Uncle,” they replied in unison. _

_ “The servants have outdone themselves.” _

_ They inclined their heads. He wasn’t wrong; they’d grown up to be attractive protegees, all the more magnetic for their power and confidence. The servants had merely exacerbated that fact with the trappings and trimmings of fancy attire. They capitalized on the twin theme, Nathan in black and Nix in white, harmonious contrast. _

_ “Shall we make our entrance, then?” Quan Chi asked. _

_ “At your leisure, Uncle,” Nate answered. _

_ Quan Chi stepped ahead of them, walking from the corridor and down the steps first. _

_ “Arriving, his Eminence the Arch-Sorcerer Quan Chi,” a servant called over the great banquet hall, where most of the guests were already in attendance. _

_ The twins followed, pausing at the top of the steps for their own announcement. _

_ “Accompanying his Eminence, his Lordship the High Sorcerer Dread and her Grace the High Sorceress Agony.” _

_ Quan Chi’s seat was situated next to Shang Tsung’s, central of the table reserved for Shao Kahn himself and his most trusted, powerful enforcers. It was positioned at the front of the banquet chamber horizontal to the other lines of tables, allowing Shao Khan a view of all those in attendance when he finally arrived. Nix and Nate were stationed a little further down at the same table. _

_ Those within their immediate vicinity stood as they approached; those lower in rank offered bows. Nate pulled Nix’s chair for her, and when she sat, so did the others. _

_ “It has been quite a while, my lady,” Prince Rain greeted. “You are as lovely as I remember.” _

_ Nix humored him by peering through her lashes, the corners of her lips quirking just enough to be noticeable. Prince Rain matched Nate for arrogance, and his elemental powers were nothing to scoff at either. They didn’t interact often, but she found him amusing when they did. _

_ “So it has, my lord,” she replied, “but I am sure there are more naive recipients for your flattery.” _

_ Rain smirked at her across the table. She could sense the flare of his anticipation and desire, what she’d felt from him since their introduction five years earlier. Nate’s eyes were sharp on them, undoubtedly detecting it as well.  _

_ “Is that so?” Rain chuckled. “Who would be more fitting?” _

_ She hummed. “Perhaps Skarlet?” she offered, all innocence. _

_ His swirled the liquid in his glass as he regarded her with veiled desire. “Purple is more my color,” he purred. _

_ Nate snorted. “A pleasure to see you again as well, Prince Rain,” he interrupted. “I am relieved to see your manners have not suffered since we last met.” _

_ Rain flicked him a brief glance before his eyes latched onto Nix again. She arched an eyebrow in return. He had to know he was playing with fire. Formal event or not, Nate had a legendary temper that shouldn’t be carelessly ignited. _

_ “Forgive the unintentional rudeness,” Rain replied, “but your sister is just so captivating.” _

_ From his side, Baraka made a disgusted noise. “Enough, Edenian. Your fumbling overtures are spoiling my appetite.” _

_ Rain scowled. “Now you know how the rest of the table feels, looking at your face.” _

_ Baraka snarled, lurched towards him right as Nix cleared her throat, the crackle of her magic brushing over them. They jerked away from each other just as quickly, turning back. _

_ “Enough,” she said, smooth and honeyed. “I prefer to keep this dress intact, and the Emperor is not even here to appreciate your Kombat. It would be a waste on both accounts.” _

_ Nate narrowed his eyes. “Show some decorum. Stop acting like animals.” _

_ Rain and Baraka both scoffed, but it wasn’t wise to disregard either of the twins. _

_ “I am sure you will both have a chance to settle your disagreements later,” Nix added. _

_ After all, it wasn’t a true celebration until Shao Kahn had his bloody entertainment. She had little real hope of making it through the festivities as pristine as she’d begun them. _

*SEVERAL DAYS BEFORE NOW*

“Are you going to leave again?”

Kenshi stiffened with discomfort. That was a question he was still struggling to answer, even days after Nix had brought it to his attention. As tactless as her delivery had been, she’d raised a valid point. Takeda was in a fragile state; he needed stability, reliability. Could Kenshi provide that? Could he take responsibility for a child?

“Well…” he began.

He could sense Takeda’s intent focus, the boy’s stare no less intense for Kenshi’s inability to see it. In the few days since Nix had left, he’d made an honest attempt at getting to know Takeda, in the hopes that the correct choice would become clear.

One thing Kenshi had learned from observing his lessons was that Takeda was like a sponge, soaking up information and assimilating it seamlessly. Whether it was another language, a fighting technique, or the speech patterns of his friends, Takeda was always growing. Pieces of him recognizable as he adopted them from others.

Which meant he reminded Kenshi uncannily of both Suchin and Nix at times. Like when he asked such blunt, unflinching questions. It was… almost endearing. But being charmed by his quirks couldn’t provide Kenshi with an answer.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” Takeda said when the silence stretched. “I just want to know.”

That definitely held the flavor of Nix’s personality, though he wasn’t as sincere as Nix when he said it. Or… maybe Nix was just better at acting like she meant it. After all, she was adamant that her personal feelings didn’t matter when it came to Takeda— wait.

“Do you  _ want  _ me to stay?”

There was a beat of silence as Takeda shifted, surprised and just as discomfited as Kenshi had been. “I… don’t want you to  _ go _ .”

Kenshi nodded, ready to accept that as an answer, but Takeda continued with a huff that could have been directed at anyone. “I wish you’d just talk and be less awkward. It’s hard to tell if we like each other when you treat me like a baby.”

Kenshi’s eyebrows nearly shot up into his hairline. He couldn’t say if that came from either of his moms or a purely Takeda thing to say. Either way, Kenshi had no idea how to respond. He  _ was _ a child, after all, and wasn’t part of being a responsible adult to treat him like one? Nix did, didn’t she?

Except… not exactly. He recalled all the interactions he’d been privy to. She treated Takeda like… like a small adult, most of the time. She was always honest with him— almost to a fault— but she compensated for that policy by picking her words carefully. She took his blunt words and pointed questions in stride, didn’t try to shield him from the truth even when she clearly wanted to. There was never any “because I told you so” or “I’ll explain when you’re older.” 

“I guess you’re right,” Kenshi sighed, trying to smile a little. “This is all new to me. I didn’t realize I had a son.”

“It’s new to me too,” Takeda offered. “I’ve never had a dad before.”

Kenshi chuckled. That was a good point. They were in similar circumstances in that regard, at least.

“Where have you been all this time, anyway?”

Kenshi’s automatic response was to defer, to smooth over the truth with platitudes. But they were finally having what felt like a real conversation, and it felt easier than any of their interactions since meeting. Maybe he should keep following Nix’s example— and wasn’t that a crazy thought? Still, he didn’t have any better ideas. 

“Travelling, mostly, and fighting. I was in the war and then started working with the US Special Forces,” he abbreviated.

Takeda hummed in recognition. “Mom was in the war.”

“You mean Phoenix?”

He hummed a confirmation. “She dreams about it sometimes. Do you?”

Kenshi thought of the nightmares that plagued him on bad nights, the death and the gore and the constant terror that he remembered had blanketed everyone’s minds. He hadn’t needed sight to witness the horror, to feel the trauma of his experiences.

“Yeah, I do,” he answered. “What about you? How are you holding up after everything?”

Takeda shifted next to him, the tinge of his thoughts providing the answer before he’d even opened his mouth. “I’m alright…”

Kenshi considered possible responses, decided not to call him out on the half-truth. It was too soon for that, but he still wanted to reach out. He liked Takeda, liked the person he could see the boy becoming. Keeping him at a distance wasn’t helping either of them.

“I miss her,” he said. “Your mom. Suchin.”

Takeda was silent.

“I wish I could have said goodbye to her.”

“Me too,” Takeda whispered, then blurted. “Why did you leave?”

Kenshi grimaced. He’d expected it, but not so soon. Would Takeda even understand? There was only one way to find out.

“I just wasn’t ready to settle down.”

Takeda didn’t respond to that, though the silence wasn’t as tense or angry as Kenshi expected. He seemed to be turning it over in his mind, grappling with the simple response. He was full of surprises.

“She wanted us to find peace,” Takeda said finally.

Kenshi’s brows furrowed. “You and… Nix?”

“Yeah, but she’d want that for you too.” There was a beat of silence. “Do you think you could do that… with us?”

The undercurrent of hope in his voice in his voice was almost painful. Kenshi hesitated. He didn’t know. “I don’t know.”

Takeda made a noise of understanding, shifted again. Kenshi felt compelled to explain, to assure the boy that it wasn’t because of him.

“Your— Nix doesn’t seem to like me very much.” That was an understatement. “The feeling is mutual, honestly.”

“Is it because she punched you?” he asked sagely.

Kenshi’s hand strayed to the fading bruise on his jaw, but he chuckled. “It certainly didn’t help,” he admitted, “but she’s also dangerous. She’s done some terrible things, Takeda.”

He sighed, sounded too old for his age. “I know, but she’s different now. She’s better.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“I am,” Takeda asserted, voice confident. “She’s a good person now, even if she doesn’t think so.”

That was… interesting. But now that he’d said it, Kenshi realized that Nix had made no claims of morality. Hadn’t seemed surprised or upset by his distrust. She wasn’t trying to convince him of her own virtue, or how she’d evolved into a paragon of ethics. She didn’t act like the martyr, the proverbial self-pitying villain-turned-struggling-hero.

“You think she’s a good person?” Kenshi asked, genuinely curious. “She thinks she’s not?”

“Mom thinks she’s worse than she is. She doesn’t lie, but sometimes you gotta pay attention to other stuff too,” Takeda answered. “She doesn’t like hurting people. She just does what she has to.”

He couldn’t be sure if his perspective was tainted by his relationship with Nix, but it was shockingly, uncomfortably insightful. Only eight and Takeda was already so attuned to other people. Had the telepathic abilities been passed down? It would certainly give them a commonality othere than Suchin, who was still too painful a topic, and Nix.

“She’s kinda normal, if you think about it,” Takeda continued, dragging Kenshi back to the topic. “All she wants to do is come home at the end of the day.”

*THEN*

_ “Why don’t you smile, my lady?” Rain wondered. “Am I not pleasing to you?” _

_ The corner of Nix’s mouth twitched as she turned to him, hiding it behind a sip of alcohol as her eyes glittered with something dark and amused. Nate flicked him an unimpressed look before returning to his conversation with Shiva. Nix ran her tongue over her bottom lip as she lowered her cup, keen eyes noting how Rain’s gaze strayed to the small movement. _

_ “My lord, you would be wise to hope that I never smile at you,” she replied. _

_ As the evening had carried on, his fraternization had only intensified. He’d been a welcome distraction from her uncomfortable clothing, as well as an effective buffer against Skarlet’s occasional backhanded comments. For that alone, he’d earned her time and attention. _

_ He arched his eyebrows, leaning into her little as they walked. Following dinner, Shao Kahn had demanded a show, which meant relocating to the Koliseum to humor whatever bloodsport caught his fancy. Rain had offered to escort her, and Nix had accepted with a staying hand on her brother’s shoulder and a glass of alcohol for the road. _

_ “And why is that?” _

_ Her voice didn’t lose its silky cadence. “Because you might not survive what caused it.” _

_ His pupils blew wide at the thinly veiled threat. Satisfaction and a small frisson of reactive lust electrified her senses. Oh, that was promising. _

_ They entered the Koliseum, only partially full for the private, elite audience. Shao Kahn had already claimed his throne, and Nix hadn’t even begun for her seat when he spotted her. _

_ “Sorceress,” his voice boomed over the arena, “you will be a fitting opening to the night’s festivities.” _

_ She slipped her hand from Rain’s elbow, passed him her empty cup, and sank into an elegant, flourishing bow, ever careful of the precarious neckline to her dress. There was a low murmur of intrigue and anticipation throughout the crowd. Had any of them seen her in Kombat before? She couldn’t remember, for some reason. It didn’t really matter, either way. _

_ “As my emperor commands,” she said. _

_ When she straightened, Quan Chi was watching her with his usual impassive expression, but she recognized a message anyhow: you will not embarrass me. The warning was unnecessary, perfunctory. They both knew she wouldn’t lose. _

_ The main stage of the arena was quickly vacated, Nix standing alone before the throne. At Shao Kahn’s signal, a champion was presented from the depths of the Koliseum. A man, of course, twice her size in any direction and buzzing with bloodlust. She arched an eyebrow, turned back to Shao Kahn. _

_ “Forgive me, your majesty,” she said, “but won’t this be boring for you?” _

_ His laughter boomed across the Koliseum. “You think you will lose so quickly?” he jibed. _

_ Nix’s eyes narrowed fractionally. He knew how powerful she was; he knew that the opponent he’d provided was no match for her. “I think I will win too quickly.” _

_ With a smirk, he signalled again and two more adversaries, as big and violent as the first, appeared. _

_ “Will this provide sufficient challenge?” _

_ No. “We shall see, your majesty.” _

_ And as she faced the men, a smile equal parts exquisite and feral curled her lips. _

_ Nix was right that her dress didn’t last the night— but it wasn’t the blood stains or dirt smudges that rendered it unsalvageable. _

_ As Rain pressed her spine against the cool stone walls of her room, she quieted his low groans with deep, filthy kisses. When she broke away, she eyed him from beneath the thick fan of her lashes, obligingly arching into his wandering hands. His fingers traced over a scar bared by the rip he’d just torn in her bodice and she shivered. _

_ “You should hope my family doesn’t catch us,” she whispered. _

_ Rain smirked at her, all willful pride and arrogance. “I promise your modesty will not be compromised.” _

_ She traced her tongue over his bottom lip as she slipped her hands down his abdomen. _

_ “It is not my modesty you should worry about,” she replied with a slow smile. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did they actually get around to fucking? That's for you to decide!
> 
> Next chapter: Sibling shenanigans.


	17. Sweet but Psycho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenshi gets an insider look at the twins lives. He and Nix finally come to an understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell yeah get ready for Soft Nix

Kenshi braced himself for a lot when he resigned himself to the company of the twins—

(The morning after he’d stitched Nix up, escorted up to their penthouse by their main lackey and introduced himself as “the personal assistant the lady asked for.” He could all but hear Nix’s exasperated eyeroll; after she’d finished choking on her waffles, anyway.

But she’d played along, “so surprised that he’d been available right away” and soothing her suspicious twin because “c’mon, Nate, don’t give me that look, paperwork is beneath me.” And he wasn’t sure what it said about Nathan that he’d just shrugged it off with a disinterested “welcome aboard.” So that was how Kenshi got a free pass to tag along with the Calamity Twins, as he’d begun calling them.)

— but he hadn’t been expecting them to be so… weirdly… normal. Nightly (and sometimes daily) Red Dragon raids aside, they behaved like a pair of regular siblings when they had privacy. Just more... durable.

Their penthouse was a constant den of self-created chaos. Nathan was lying on the couch one night, peacefully enjoying a book with the news playing in the background. Kenshi was just marvelling that such a destructive man could seem so at peace for any length of time. Then Nix exited the kitchen with a bag of chips in one hand and dived over the back to flop on him.

“Fuck off,” Nate wheezed, though he didn’t sound all that aggravated. “Get your bony joints outta here or I’ll smother you.”

Nix crunched a chip, very clearly not moving. “With your little doll hands? I’d like to see you try.”

Which only resulted in a wrestling match that  _ broke their coffee table _ , but neither of them seemed injured. Kenshi worried briefly for her stitches, but she just rolled out of the wreckage and bounced to her feet.

“Maybe don’t destroy your own apartment,” he’d suggested.

Nix snorted. “The furniture is ugly anyway.”

“So is your face!” Nathan shot back. Which was: 1, a blatant lie as far as Kenshi knew; 2, useless because she wasn’t vain; and 3, stupid because they still looked similar enough that he’d essentially insulted himself. That said, Nix launched at him while Kenshi stood aside, bewildered.

They were two of the most feared people Outworld had ever produced. Infamous for their power and sadism. Dangerous alone, fatal as a pair, but they argued over fries from fast food restaurants and made fun of each other’s fashion sense.

The couch incident wasn’t the only one.

There was the night Nathan conjured a bucket of ice-cold water over her head while she was showering. And then the day he whined like a toddler when Nix stole one of his shirts because her “stupid boobs are going to stretch it out,” which prompted the response that his boobs were bigger.

Despite his supposed role as Nix’s secretary, Kenshi felt more like a babysitter. It was less paperwork and more magician-wrangling than he anticipated. Like trying to keep Johnny Cage on task but twice as dangerous and confusing.

“You guys know you have a meeting in thirty minutes, right?”

The twins cursed in unison, pausing in their latest little scuffle. Nix was suspended out the window of the penthouse by her ankle because she’d changed Nate’s ringtone to something wildly inappropriate.

There was a beat of silence, then Nate’s smug voice. “Meet you at the bottom.”

“Wait, Na—”

And Kenshi was honest enough to admit he got some satisfaction out of her shriek as she plummeted several hundred feet.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t all fun and games. There was an underlying tension that crackled between them, bad blood that couldn’t be erased just because (or maybe exactly because) Nix was compelled by her promise. It became the most tangible when they raided Red Dragon dens, systematically dismantling the clan one piece at a time.

Nix was making good on her word to try to keep the damage to a minimum. Because she was leading the assaults, she could plan them for times where few civilians were likely to get caught in the crossfire and things usually didn’t explode. The trouble came with the actual killing.

She was chillingly efficient. It reminded Kenshi that she’d been built for death and destruction, that that had been her purpose for so long it was as natural as breathing. Still, once he managed to cope with the act itself (and how easily she did it) he admitted that she wasn’t  _ cruel _ about it. No one ever survived long enough to be in much pain, and most of the raids lasted ten minutes at most.

It was Nathan who was earning his name— who’d never cast it off, in truth. He wanted to make the Red Dragon pay for whatever they’d done to his sister; a reason he didn’t even seem to know. If she let him out of her sight for even a moment, torture and pain followed until she intervened to put the unfortunate bastards out of their misery.

It wasn’t long before they got into an argument about it, oblivious to Kenshi’s (or anyone else’s) presence.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Nathan demanded.

“ _ My _ problem?” she scoffed. “You’re the one wasting time on sadistic little games. It’s beneath us.”

The air felt charged with an electric current. No one dared approach or interrupt. The remains of a Red Dragon hideout burned behind them.

“This is about your stupid moralistic crisis,” Nathan sneered. “You think it’s ‘bad’ and ‘wrong’ to make these assholes suffer.”

Moralistic crisis? What was that supposed to mean? Kenshi hadn’t known Nix long, and her brother had seemed like a sensitive topic. Hanzo had informed him that there was some sort of rift between them, a falling out that had ultimately led to her becoming Takeda’s second mom, but the details were for her to reveal. He’d had no idea that the twins separation had been about  _ morals. _

“It’s not necessary!” she snapped. “I just want them dead.”

And Kenshi had probably spent too much time around them, when he thought that was pretty reasonable of her. Her idea of mercy was different from his, but it was far preferable to Nathan’s. Spending time with them had put  _ that _ in stark perspective.

“You promised,” Nathan insisted. “You promised it would be like it used to be.”

There was a flicker around him. Something unstable. The little rationality he usually possessed was faltering. Nothing like family, as the saying went.

“I’m not perfect, Nate. I’m not an actress,” Nix groaned, sounding strained. “I can’t be something I’m not anymore.”

“You can and you  _ will _ ,” Nathan growled. “You’ll be what you’re supposed to be.”

She moved so fast that Kenshi flinched away even though she wasn’t aiming for him. Nathan’s back slammed into the ground hard enough to leave a dent, to send vibrations through the soles of Kenshi’s boots. There was a scrape of rocks— the asphalt had cracked beneath him on impact.

“ _ No one  _ talks to me like that.” Her voice was cold enough to make the temperature drop. “Not even you.”

Nathan made a choked, angry noise but whatever she was doing to him, he couldn’t force any words out.

“You don’t get to control me just because Quan Chi is gone.”

Nathan inhaled sharply as Nix moved away from him, the crunch of her boots in the gravel loud and angry. Then the crackle of magic and whir of an opening portal before she disappeared.

*THEN*

_ Nix hadn’t felt like this in years. This helplessness. This deep, soul-quaking fear. She had thought she was long desensitized to the horrors Shang Tsung could unleash, the cruelties he could inflict. She had been so very, very wrong. _

_ “I present this latest creation of Shao Kahn,” he announced. A black-clad figure marched through the crowd of assembled warriors, escorted by royal guards. From Princess Kitana’s side, Nix had a perfect view of the approaching contender, not that she would have needed it to recognize him, even with his face covered. _

_ “What has he done?” she breathed, shock and anguish thick in her voice. The princess shot her a wary sideways look, made uneasy by Nix’s reaction.  _

_ “Many warriors, their souls fused into one being,” Shang Tsung continued. “Behold, Ermac!” _

_ Nix swallowed back bile that burned her throat. It had been a little less than a week since she’d seen Nathan. At her questions, Quan Chi had assured her that he was preparing for the Mortal Kombat tournament, when he would participate where she could not. _

_ It hadn’t occurred to her that his absence and Shang Tsung’s preoccupations in the Flesh Pits were connected. _

_ Frantic, she reached for Nathan’s mind, only to stumble back at the dissonant cacophony of voices that greeted her. Her vision swam and spun, senses overwhelmed by the psychic noise, the chaos happening within the being that had once been her brother. _

_ As hastily as the amalgamation had been put together, they were unstable. Unsustainable. And it would destroy Nathan if not drive him insane. _

_ Her heart pounded in her chest. He had to be in there somewhere. She… she would know if he was gone, if his consciousness had been swept up in the tornado of other souls that now resided within his body. The nature of their powers allowed Nathan to act as a conduit, his will directing and driving the others. The evidence of that was reflected in Ermac’s actions, walking and talking with little trouble. _

_ Bracing herself with eyes closed, Nix tried again, struggled through the mire of unfamiliar minds until she found something recognizable. She latched onto it, tugged at it until Nathan’s mind sparked, reconnected to hers. In the middle of the battle with Liu Kang, Ermac faltered. Nix had to disengage, but they never recovered and she prayed it would be enough to save her twin, no matter the consequences. _

*NOW*

As soon as Nix disappeared, Nathan stormed off towards the city, cursing in every language he seemed to know. Luckily, the violence in his temper had cooled from the argument, so Kenshi didn’t feel too worried about bailing on that particular shitshow. Between the two of them, he preferred the twin that seemed downright  _ reasonable _ now, and returned to the penthouse. 

He paused outside their front door, wary of her temper, but sensed almost nothing from within. Whatever she was feeling, however she was reacting to the fight, it was self-contained. Kenshi entered carefully nonetheless, prepared to defend himself if she lashed out. He was greeted by heavy silence,spread his senses out a little further and realized she was in her room.

Unsure of what to do, he approached her door and knocked. There was a moment of silence, then the soft tap of bare feet, and finally the door swung in.

“If you’re here to lecture me… don’t.” To anyone else she would have sounded annoyed. Impatient. But Kenshi could hear more, hear better, and she sounded  _ exhausted. _

“Are you alright?” he blurted. It was a stupid question, but he didn’t actually have a plan for this conversation. He’d just sort of… sought her out and then said the first thing he could to assure her that he wasn’t there to make her night worse.

She didn’t react like it was a stupid question, though. And it said a lot about her mental state, that his concern was valid, when he could sense her surprise and confusion.

“I’m… fine?” She said it like she thought there was a trick. “It wasn’t a big raid. I didn’t get injured.”

Kenshi was reminded of the conversation they’d had with Hanzo that first night at the Shirai Ryu temple. He hadn’t been paying close attention at the time, too distracted by his bruised pride and self-righteous anger— but Hanzo had asked if she’d be alright with her brother.

_ “It’s not like he can kill me _ ,” she had said.

She didn’t… get it. For all the insight her powers gave, she didn’t understand what they were really asking. As compassionate as Suchin had, surely she’d asked Nix before? The way Nix reacted, though…

Maybe there’d been no point in asking her. Maybe Suchin had never needed to, but Kenshi was didn’t know Nix that well. He would ask, if only for Takeda’s sake— and he was pretty sure it wasn’t, anymore.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Her silence felt more uneasy than disapproving. “What, then?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Currently confused.” She wasn’t quite snapping, but it was a paper-thin attempt to push him away, and he wasn’t about to let her anymore. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything. I’m just checking on you.”

She bristled. “I don’t need a keeper. I’m not going to hurt anyone, as you can plainly fucking see.” She faltered. “I’m in pajamas. The only one in danger right now is you.”

And something had probably gone haywire in his brain when he brushed that off as an empty threat.

“I know you’re not going to hurt anyone,” he assured her. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then  _ why _ ?” she demanded, a note of desperation creeping into her voice. “What do you want from me? I’m so tired; can’t it wait?”

Her voice was brittle on that last part and something in Kenshi flinched. How many people only bothered her because they wanted something from her? How many just let her be, let her exist? Suchin, probably, but Suchin was gone now. Takeda to a degree, but she still had a responsibility to him…

Who else? Kenshi was coming up blank. Hanzo, maybe, but they’d only just reconnected as awkward… friends? Acquaintances?

Nathan certainly didn’t make the list.

“I don’t want anything from you,” he insisted. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Distrust radiated from her. “I’m fine,” she stated. “I’m always fine.”

He was unable to help the incredulous noise he made. “I thought you don’t lie. That’s what Takeda says. Are you going to make him a liar too?”

She sputtered. “You— this— I… no.” She sighed. “Why are you doing this?”

He shrugged. “I want to be in Takeda’s life,” he admitted, “so I think it’s only fair to him and to ourselves to try to work as a team. You know, since we’ll be spending a lot of time together.”

There was a moment of silence. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe there  _ was _ no getting through to her and they’d have to settle for strained tolerance. He couldn’t really blame her after seeing just a taste of her what her life had been like. What it  _ continued _ to be like, really.

“I’m kind of sick of arguing with you all the time,” she admitted, stepping a little further out of her room.

His exhale was equal parts relief and amusement. “Me too.”

“I’m not great,” she continued, voice uncertain, “if you want an honest answer to your question. My brother… well, my family is complicated as you can see.”

He snorted and crossed his arms. “Doesn’t actually seem that complicated,” he stated, the implication clear.

She made a surprised noise. “Well…”

Sensing that he’d pushed her comfort zone enough for the day, he made one last offer. “Do you want company?”

“I… wouldn’t mind it.”

Which was as close to “yes” as he was going to get. “Let’s watch a movie. I feel like you could use a little more pop culture exposure.”

She snorted, but her voice was warm with amusement when she asked, “Is there even any point to that for you?”

“If you focus on the movie enough, you could probably project it to me.”

She hummed. “Sure, let’s try it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No promises, but I think there's some smut upcoming at long last.


	18. Blackout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One month is over... but did Nix keep her promise?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll today! Two updates, fuck yeah!
> 
> Some angst in this one though.

*THEN*

_ Nix was fourteen when she took her first life. _

_ She’d forget the man’s face within the year, his name within six months. She was already forgetting his voice. There was blood on her hands, on her clothes, in her hair. It had been a messy kill. She’d get better at it with time, Quan Chi would later assure her. _

_ A rush of tears made clean tracks down her cheeks as she gazed at the body. Not because of what she’d done, the piece of her that she’d never get back. It was not sorrow for the person she could have been, had she not crossed that line. She’d never recover from taking that first bloody step, but she didn’t know that yet. _

_ She cried from sheer relief. From joy. _

_ She understood, finally. _

_ There was power in death. There was safety. If she could kill them, they couldn’t hurt her. Not anymore. _

_ That threat they wielded against her, the promise of pain that leashed her to the will of others… _

_ It was nothing compared to what she’d just discovered. For all the agony they could put her through, she could repay it tenfold. She could make them stop  _ forever _ . Take away any chance they had of torturing her and Nathan. _

_ As long as she could win. As long as she could kill them. _

_ Not Shang Tsung or Quan Chi. Not yet. But one day. Until then, she’d show everyone else what true agony was. _

*NOW*

Nix’s hands were shaking.

The sensation was alien. Disconcerting. She closed her hands into fists, but it didn’t stop. How could she make it stop?

“You can’t deny that it felt good.”

Nathan’s knowing gaze bore into her profile, but she couldn’t wrench her gaze away. Why wouldn’t the shaking stop?

“You’re not a liar. Not even to yourself.”

There was a body on the ground in front of them. Or at least… it had been a body. The body of Daegon. She couldn’t remember what happened. One moment he’d been alive, preparing to fight her. Then her vision had gotten hazy and red and all the noise of the destructing base had faded away.

And then she’d been standing over the mangled corpse.

She didn’t want to know. She should ask, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. It was enough to see the evidence.

Gods, she just wanted the shaking to stop.

“Just like the old days,” Nate sighed, all wistful nostalgia. His arms circled her shoulders. Her shirt was so blood-soaked that it made a soft  _ squish _ as he squeezed. “Isn’t this better than pretending to be something you’re not?”

Except she’d never been like this after a blackout. Not even after the first time. Her throat felt tight. All she could think of was Takeda and Suchin and how proud they’d been. Hanzo and his remarks about her improvement. Kenshi and the honest chance he was starting to give her.

She hadn’t thought she’d  _ wanted _ any sort of chance until…

Until he’d shown interest and affection for Takeda. Until he’d been genuinely kind to her. Until he’d reached out without asking for anything in return. Until he’d put himself out there, not knowing how she’d react, but willing to take that chance despite everything because— because?

Killing the man responsible for Suchin’s death felt like closure. But the way that she’d gotten there…

Something was still wrong with her. Had to be. Something in her was still Quan Chi’s niece. Still that thing that lurked in slaughter. She’d thought killing had just become another job for her, a neutral act that was a means to an end, but lacked personal value. Even going into this final confrontation with Daegon, she’d just wanted to get it over with.

Or at least she thought she had.

But obviously she’d been wrong. Because she only blacked out when she wanted to deal real damage. When she  _ wanted  _ suffering. When she  _ wanted  _ to be painted in blood and gore.

_ So why were her hands still shaking? _

“I need a bath.”

Nate chuckled. “Yeah, you do! When you’re done, let’s go to the club and get milkshakes.”

She didn’t respond as a portal opened and she slipped out of his embrace directly into the penthouse. Her boots left bloody footprints across the carpets and wooden floors. A bit of bone fell off her shirt and skittered under the couch.

Had it always been so cold?

Nix stumbled to her bedroom, then the en suite. Her hands fumbled with the hot water tap and forewent the one for cold entirely. Before she could step under the spray, her stomach lurched. Her knees cracked against the tile as she heaved into the toilet, hands and forearms smearing crimson on the ceramic.

It was hard to breathe. Her vision was foggy; from the steam?

She crawled over the side of the tub. Couldn’t quite remember how to stand. Sat beneath the spray of scalding water. It barely registered and the goosebumps on her skin weren’t going away.

She’d promised herself she’d still be good for Takeda when she went back. Her time was up. He would be expecting her the next morning. Had she been able to keep that promise to herself?

It was hard to tell what the honest answer was.

A year earlier, a blackout wouldn’t have even registered. So she’d gone a little overboard. It wouldn’t have been the first time. She wouldn’t have expected it to be the last. Her target was dead and that was a good thing. Even after first meeting Takeda, she would have just filed it away as another thing he’d never know firsthand. Never see for himself.

But she hadn’t had a blackout in so long. Had thought they were gone for good and she’d been grateful. She couldn’t trust what she was like when she wasn’t conscious of her own brutality. The cruelty of it was unnecessary.

“ _ Find your own peace while on Earth, will you, Nix? I want you and Takeda to be happy even without me. I know you can do it. You have each other.” _

She winced. Those had been some of Suchin’s last words. Her death felt like the worst wound Nix had ever received, and it wasn’t healing. Without Suchin to ground her, she felt jagged and precarious.

“ _ I know you can do it.”  _ If Suchin knew… Nix should believe her.

Nix had once come home on the heels of an intense mission. She’d returned while Takeda was still at school, had collapsed at Suchin’s feet still covered in blood and hadn’t bothered to magic it away that time.

“You can’t tell me I’m good for him,” she’d rasped.

Suchin had knelt and taken Nix’s face in warm, soft hands. “I can and I am. Who were they this time?”

“Human trafficking. Pedophiles.”

Suchin had shuddered, then said slowly, “Takeda is a child.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I couldn’t stand… ah.”

“Ah.” Her lips had twitched. “You care about us, which means you have intense reactions to things that involve us. You’re just not used to that. It’s okay. You’ll get better at it.”

Right.

Right, Daegon was responsible for Suchin’s death. One of the only good people Nix had ever had in her life. She’d never lost someone like that before, and she was still grieving. No matter how good Nix thought she was at compartmentalizing, Suchin and Takeda had always had a way of bleeding over.

Yes… the blackout made sense. A lot of sense.

She wasn’t proud of it. Wasn’t happy. But it had happened, and lingering on it was asinine. She could lay the anger and bloodlust to rest now that the guilty parties had paid. It was time to let herself cope with Suchin’s death so that she could keep moving.

Takeda was still there. Still counting on her. He needed her to be good for him; she promised herself that she would be.

And she always kept her promises.

*THEN*

_ Jade screamed. The sound echoed throughout the sparring chamber and clawed at Kitana’s insides. _

_ Their referee gripped Phoenix’s arms to yank her off. He’d barely touched her before collapsing in a fetal position, shouting and clutching at his skull until his scalp bled. Kitana glanced at Nathan, lounging at the sidelines with a satisfied smirk. On his other side, Skarlet eyed him warily. He didn’t move to intervene, even as bone cracked and crunched. Jade’s voice pitched higher and sharper and louder. _

_ “Stop her,” Kitana snapped, “That’s an order.” _

_ Nathan tilted his head towards her in a vague nod, then stood and stretched with all the haste of a lazy housecat. “As the princess commands.” _

_ The mix of menace and sarcasm that laced his words like sweet poison made her shudder, at least on the inside. Even so, his eyes narrowed with amusement, like he knew. He sauntered into the sparring ring and right up to the gruesome match. _

_ He knelt down beside the pair and murmured something that couldn’t be heard over Jade and their unfortunate referee. Then Phoenix’s hold relaxed and Jade skittered away as best she could with one arm. _

_ Phoenix and Nathan straightened to stand again, the former brushing off her sparring uniform. Behind them, the doors swung inwards for Quan Chi. _

_ “They’re abominations,” Kitana seethed, her voice ringing throughout the chamber. _

_ The Arch Sorcerer scanned the scene. First his niece and nephew, then the victims writhing on the ground, then the princess all but shaking with anger and repulsion, and finally the twins once again. _

_ “High praise indeed, your highness.” _

_ Kitana was shocked into silence. Nathan’s mouth curled into a sinister grin. Phoenix’s face was blank and smooth, unperturbed. _

_ “She nearly killed them,” Skarlet interjected, hiding her unease well as she gestured at Jade and their referee. _

_ However, Quan Chi merely clasped his hands behind his back, eyebrows arched. _

_ “Indeed?” He turned to Phoenix, who inclined her head in deference. “I must commend your restraint, but you may not be fit for casual sparring any longer.” _

_ “They’re not fit for  _ society _ ,” Kitana interjected, frowning. “They’re sadistic!” _

_ “Fortunately, they are in good company,” Quan Chi chuckled. “I’m afraid I don’t understand your complaint, your highness. The twins are exactly as I’ve crafted them to be.” _

_ Phoenix’s eyes were glowing violet as they flicked to the princess and stayed. There was… nothing there. No threat, no anger, no smugness. It was just a blank, assessing stare. Impassive. Inhuman. _

_ It was almost impossible to imagine that they’d grown up side by side. That this was the same girl who’d cried over scraped knees and broken noses and had once been embarrassed by a misguided punch to the breast as teenagers. Whoever that girl had been, she was gone now. Dead. _

_ Perhaps that was really the first person Phoenix had ever killed. _

_ “Come along now,” Quan Chi said to the twins, “we have work to do.” _

_ And, obedient to the end, they followed him out. _

*NOW*

Nix was exhausted and a little sore from one last “argument” with Nate… but she was on time.

Hanzo met her at the entrance to the temple, clasped her forearm with a slight nod and didn’t say a word. The exhaustion on her face must have been enough.

He led her onto the grounds, where a small group of mini-assassins were practicing katas. Nix spotted her own mini-assassin right away, standing at the front of the group with a determined brow. A slow smile spread across her face at the sight of him in a black and yellow uniform.

In the shadow of the temple above the students, Kenshi was leaning against a railing, observing in his own way. As he sensed her presence, he tilted his head and offered a wave. Surprised but not displeased by the friendly greeting, she sent the telepathic equivalent of a wave back.

The Shirai Ryu instructor caught sight of her. They said something that must have dismissed the class, because all the kids straightened from their stances. Nix got two more steps before Takeda’s head snapped up and whipped around.

“Mom!”

She was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I love Jade so much omg I just thought I was dunking on Skarlet too much and Nix could never get away with injuring Kitana that badly in Shao Kahn's palace.
> 
> Beginning of proper romance in the NEXT one, I swear.


	19. I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix and Kenshi are trying to figure out this parenting thing. Takeda is really adamant about the most important meal of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I'd be back to semi-regular updates? Well, my study abroad semester ended so I was busy flying back from the other side of the globe.
> 
> WARNING: I promised when this started there's no incest and there's NOT. However, Kano (because he's disgusting) makes the accusation to get a rise out of the twins in this flashback. They get him back tenfold. If even jokes make you uncomfortable, please SKIP DOWN TO WHERE IT SAYS *NOW* and you'll miss the whole conversation.
> 
> It will never be mentioned again. Please enjoy

**I, in the name of violence...**

*THEN*

_ Kano spat as he strode into the nightclub, shouldering through the crowd of trust fund babies for the back staircase. He should have expected that Thing 1 and 2 would make the prissiest criminals in the world. _

_ Since the NetherRealm war had ended, he’d been keeping tabs on them. Their own syndicate had grown like fucking mold, because they were perfect at everything they did, of course. Back alley deals, negotiations and alliances with mafias and mobs. In their cute little suits and dresses, all primped and preened. _

_ They’d been watching too many movies, if you asked him, and they were overdue for a dose of reality. Their organization was edging closer and closer into Black Dragon territory and he wasn’t keen on losing money, especially because of those two. _

_ He caught sight of them at the edge of the platform, looking almost human for the first time he could remember. The boy was leaning his forearms on the railing, scowling at the patrons below in a button-up and pants. The girl was leaning back against the rail in the tightest pair of jeans Kano had ever seen. Looked like she’d gotten a haircut since they’d last run into each other, too. Made them even more eerily similar. _

_ They glanced over as he strolled up with a grin. “The Wonder Twins,” he greeted, “surprised to hear from you two. I figured you’d have slunk back to Outworld after the war was over. Swanky little set-up you’ve got here.” _

_ The girl straightened up with a nod and began walking ahead. The boy fell into step beside Kano, stuffing his hands in his pockets. _

_ “There’s nothing for us in Outworld,” he answered, “Khan politics hold little interest for us.” _

_ Real convenient considering both Mileena and Kotal Kahn had bounties on their heads. Even if they’d wanted to go back into that mess, there was no place for them there. _

_ They entered what he figured was one of the VIP rooms, where the walls were thick tinted glass. Sound and bullet-proof he reckoned. Fine by him. Better they had some privacy. _

_ The girl made a beeline for the mini-bar while Kano and her brother took seats on the leather couches across from each other. _

_ “What’s your poison?” she asked. _

_ It was the first time he’d ever heard her speak without a title at the end. She had a strange accent, but not unpleasant. He wouldn’t mind hearing her moaning in his ear. _

_ “The usual for me, Nixie,” Nathan called. _

_ Kano arched an eyebrow at the nickname, though she didn’t seem bothered by it as she began rummaging around behind the counter. He’d half a mind to try it out for himself, but he wasn’t keen on getting his intestines rearranged just yet. _

_ “A tinnie for me, love,” Kano replied instead, and smirked at the warning look Nate shot him. _

_ Protective. _

_ “We’ve only got bottles.” _

_ He waved a careless hand, only for a chilled glass to fly into it, the lid already off. Fuck, between her ass in those jeans and a trick like that, he wouldn’t mind having her on call. He mused on that half-baked thought until she rounded the bar with a glass in each hand. _

_ Finally, they could stop wasting time.  _

_ “Not that I don’t love the killer service,” Kano drawled, “but what’s this about?” _

_ She settled onto the cushions beside her brother, leaning into his side. His arm sprawled across the back behind her as he accepted what looked like a milkshake. Oh, so they were  _ that _ kind of close. Kano had always thought they were creepy and a little too comfortable, but he’d assumed that it was just the telepathy and fucked up family dynamics. He hadn’t realized they were that kind of fucked up. _

_ “Gauging the situation,” she answered, “Our employees are helpful with logistics, but those are impersonal, don’t you agree?” _

_ He eyed her and grunted before knocking back half his beer in one go, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. She kept her expression smooth, but her brother made no attempt to hide his contempt. _

_ “Since the three of us have  _ history _ …” Her voice was soft and smooth. Kano’s dick twitched automatically. “We thought it would be better to speak to you in person.” _

_ Kano leaned forward in his seat, eyes dipping down to the low neckline of her shirt before bouncing back to her face. “I know you’re not used to talking, love, but cut to the chase already.” _

_ The boy twitched with irritation. How far could Kano push before he snapped? Far, it seemed, so long as his sister kept a steadying hand on his knee. Fucking weirdos. _

_ “For one, the Black Dragon,” she continued. “Does our organization need to be… aware of yours?” _

_ Kano laughed outright. “Your organization had better be fucking aware already, lollipop, or you’ll wish you’d gone back to Outworld.” _

_ The green bean growled and jerked forward, but she caught his arm and tugged him back. Kano smirked as he settled back again, his sister’s arm still curled tight around his. Oh, yeah, no doubt about it, those two were— _

_ “Maybe we can discuss territories later so that we can avoid unnecessary conflict,” she mused. _

_ “Oh, yeah?” Kano leered. “Maybe you and I could discuss some  _ uncharted _ territories in private, eh?” _

_ The noise her brother made was barely human. Nix’s face twitched before it smoothed over again. Kano smirked. They were out of practice; back in Outworld, they wouldn’t have even blinked at a comment like that. _

_ “Black Dragon activities aside,” she said, “there was one other thing we were interested in.” _

_ Kano chugged the rest of his beer and gestured for her to get on with it. Nix sipped at her own drink, taking her sweet fucking time to answer. Goddamn politician types. _

_ “We’re invested in staying away from our uncle. Have you been in contact with him since the tournament?” she asked. “Do you know what he’s been up to?” _

_ Kano’s one good eye glinted. “You want information.” _

_ She hummed. “If you have it.” _

_ Because he kept tabs on Special Forces, and especially Sonya Blade, he knew that the bootlickers were desperate to get their hands on the cue-ball. Other than that, though, it wasn’t like Quan Chi had been in contact with him. The sorry bastard had slunk off to lick his wounds in some dark corner of NetherRealm or something. _

_ That didn’t mean he was going to tell them that though. _

_ Kano smirked. “I might know a thing or two… for a price.” _

_ The twins were the ones to burst into laughter that time, exchanging amused glances. He narrowed his eyes. What the fuck? _

_ “You’re dumber than you look,” the girls scoffed. “We’ve already got what we wanted from you.” _

_ They stood and strode past him, headed for the lounge door. What the fuck did that— shit. Fucking telepaths. Of course they’d read his goddamn mind. _

_ “Don’t get your dick caught in the door on your way out,” the boy called over his shoulder. _

_ He was on his feet without a second thought, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Oi, we’re not done here.” _

_ They paused at the door, turned to smirk at Kano with mirrored smugness. He never thought he’d miss those blank doll stares. Nathan slung an arm around her shoulders as she tilted her head, eyes glowing in the ambient lighting. _

_ “Done?” she mocked. “We never even began.” _

_ “You frigid bitch,” he snarled, “Can’t believe your brother’s dick doesn’t freeze off.” _

_ The air turned to ice. The boy’s arm dropped from her shoulder as she went still. The expression on her face was dazed shock. Fucking finally. _

_ “Excuse me?” she asked softly. _

_ Kano grinned unpleasantly. “Oh, you’re not fooling anyone, love,” he goaded. “My only question is, did Quan Chi watch or did he and Green Bean tag-team you?” _

_ He’d never seen the Twins at their best— or worst— before. Had never seen the full extent of their power or their cruelty. Had never been on the receiving end of their wrath. A supervised sparring match with enchanted weapons was nothing. That was a playdate. A schoolyard scuffle. _

_ What happened next was sadism. _

_ “I will unmake you.” _

_ It was his only warning before they pounced, too fast for his mortal mind to comprehend in real time— nevermind respond. There was a flash of dark green, a blur of pale purple. Suddenly his head collided with the floor and all he could see through the black dots were a pair of malicious smiles. _

_ He tried to struggle, but their strength outmatched his own with all the enhancements they’d been given. One held his arm out to the side as another drove a blade through his palm, burying through tile to pin him to the ground. They did the same to his other hand, working with brutal efficiency and sick laughter. Agony radiated up his arms, fleshy tendons and delicate bones no match for their bloodlust. _

_ His scream was choked short as a couple hands coiled around his throat, restricting his air supply to a desperate wheeze. Above him, their faces swam in and out of focus. They exchanged a few words that he couldn’t understand. Their eyes glowed as they turned back to him, teeth flashing white. _

_ And then unyielding fingertips began to pry beneath his prosthetic eye. _

_ Slowly. _

*NOW*

Nix made a confused noise at the unfamiliar ceiling that greeted her. Where was she? Why was she awake? She wasn’t in her room in the penthouse… and it wasn’t Suchin’s house either. Her body hurt, but that told her almost nothing.

“You’re at the Shirai Ryu temple,” a chipper voice informed her. Takeda’s face popped into view above her and she smiled, ruffling his hair.

He leaned out of the way as she sat up, pushing her own hair out of her face and endlessly glad that she didn’t have to deal with tangles anymore.

“Morning, kiddo,” she yawned. “Do I have you to thank for the wakeup call?”

“You need breakfast,” he informed her. “Father said I should get you up.”

Her heart squeezed. “Father,” huh? It wasn’t “dad” yet, but it was a start. Kenshi must have really proved himself in her absence if Takeda was already calling him that. She was honestly happy about it, more than she even expected to be. Kenshi wasn’t half bad once he got over the self-righteousness, and she felt better about having another parent for Takeda, even if he had no clue what he was doing.

Neither did she, in all fairness.

“He said you wouldn’t hit me ‘on accident’,” Takeda continued, including air quotes.

She snorted. “Well, he was right.”

Speak of the devil, there he was leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed— and was it just her, or did he look… attractive. Like, really attractive with the sunlight hitting him and the way his shirt fit and the amused little smile on his face and… ah, fuck.

“It’s cheating to read my mind when I just woke up,” she griped.

“You told me there’s no such thing as cheating unless it’s a relationship,” Takeda piped up.

Her mouth dropped open. “Hey, whose side are you on?!”

He beamed. “My own!” he declared.

She mock-gasped in offense and latched her fingers to his ribcage, pressing gently until he burst into giggles and struggled in vain to escape. Kenshi snorted as they fell sideways on the cot— barely enough room for Nix, nevermind for Takeda as well, but enough for this.

“You taught him well,” Kenshi chuckled when there was a break in the laughter.

“My own lessons, used against me,” she lamented, placing a big smooch on Takeda’s cheek just to see his face scrunch up.

They sat up and Takeda scrambled off the bed, tugging on her wrist. She tilted her head at him in question, the corners of her lips tilted up.

“C’mon, you still need to eat. You didn’t have dinner last night.”

She huffed out an amused breath and stood, but rather than follow him, tugged him into a hug.

“You know it’s my job to take care of you, right?” she said, then corrected, “Well, me and Kenshi.”

More and more she was warming up to the idea of having Kenshi around. The idea of him being permanent hadn’t… hadn’t quite  _ settled _ yet. But she was warming to the thought of Kenshi being around them for an indefinite length of time. Kind of a relief, to know someone else would be there to protect Takeda if and when she couldn’t— assuming she could rely on him, anyway.

She was willing to give him the same chance he’d given her.

Sure as hell better than a month earlier, when she would have been just as happy kicking him down the stairs.

“We all watch out for each other,” Takeda argued. “It’s not a one-way transaction.”

And she kind of blanked out at that, because she’d said that in a work conversation he’d overheard  _ once _ , and now he was parroting with all the smugness an eight-year-old could muster.

“Well, he’s got you there.”

She shot Kenshi a look— not that it was at all effective, but it made Takeda giggle.

“I’ll get no peace from you two,” she sighed, then ruffled Takeda’s hair and let him step back. “Alright, let’s go to breakfast.”

Her clothing (the slightly torn, slightly stained base layer of her “work clothes”) transformed in a swirl of purple energy. If she had her way, she wouldn’t be in tactical gear again for at least a week, if not more. She’d never expected to prefer the comfort of sweatpants over carbon-steel polyfiber, but such was life, apparently.

Takeda darted off ahead while Kenshi and Nix fell into step together, exchanging brief greetings.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She hummed, trying to figure out if he meant physically or mentally. Kenshi now fell under the protected banner of privacy afforded to anyone she respected, trusted, and genuinely liked. Meaning she hadn’t quite learned his particular way of communicating without the aid of her abilities just yet.

“Better, now that I’m back.” A sweeping statement that could suffice for both possibilities. “A long night of rest did me good.”

And it really had. All of her injuries were healed, if not mostly healed. The mental and emotional strain she’d endured for a month had finally eased, given way to exhaustion that had ensured she recovered mentally as well. Nightmares would be forthcoming within the next several days, but at least she’d gotten a solid fifteen hours beneath her belt beforehand.

“But, um… how about you?”

That was what she was supposed to ask, right? That was the polite thing to do. Suchin had always just told her, because she knew that Nix wasn’t all there— or at least didn’t know how to interact with people. Kenshi expected her to at least  _ try _ to act like a functioning person. And maybe she didn’t try  _ for _ other people anymore, but she’d agreed to try in general. So they could get along and raise Takeda together.

From the small smile on Kenshi’s face, she’d said the right thing, at least.

“Better than when we first met,” he answered. “Though, you and I have some things to talk about.”

She nodded. “After breakfast— if, ah, if you want.”

Shit, this was weird. Complicated. She’d never felt unsure like this, trying to make nice with someone. Kenshi wasn’t Suchin; Nix couldn’t talk to him like her. Which meant she had to figure out how to talk to him on her own. She would eventually, for Takeda’s sake and for her own, but in the meantime she’d be really fucking awkward.

“Better sooner than later,” Kenshi agreed.

She frowned. “Something urgent?”

“Soft time limit,” he assured, “but I have a feeling it’ll be a long discussion.”

She hummed. Long discussion, huh? Sounded like code for “we’re probably going to argue” but she was determined to keep up their streak of civility.

“We’ll see.”

“ _ Come to me, Agony.” _

She froze in the middle of the stairs, cocking her head. That was… unusual. And definitely not her imagination. And definitely not something that should be happening in the Shirai Ryu temple. Actually, it reminded her of… something from Outworld…

“Nix?”

She held up a hand.

“Nix, why did you stop?” Kenshi asked again.

Oh, right.

“Just, hold on, I thought I heard—”

“ _ Child of despair, you are well deserving of your title.” _

A shiver travelled down her spine. Oh, she knew that voice, knew that honeyed tone.

“ _ Oh, sweet lost creature. No one will ever hurt you again if you just come to me…” _

She narrowed her eyes. Oh, yes, she remembered that. Or at least, what happened after she heard it. She remembered enough, anyway— apart from the funny bits of static at the edge of her memory.

“ _ I can fill in those gaps, Agony. You and I can recreate those memories right here, in the present. _ ”

She shook her head. “Never again. You’re lucky you’re in so many pieces that I can’t kill you.”

Kenshi tensed. “ _ Nix _ . What’s going on?”

“It’s—”

“ _ You won’t tell him. You want my powers again. You don’t want to be alone in that—” _

“Be silent,” she hissed, shutting it out.

Kenshi had moved closer, one of his hands hovering near her shoulder but not making contact. She touched his wrist, a brief, light brush of fingertips over the skin where his sleeve ended.

“What just happened?” he asked, brow furrowing. “You didn’t… feel like you for a second.”

She sighed and rubbed at her eyes, feeling a migraine tug at the back of her mind. “I know. It’s because—”

“Mom,  _ c’mon _ . You have to eat!” She glanced at Takeda, tugging at the hem of her shirt with an insistent frown. “You haven’t eaten in, like, a day.”

He was no stranger to her past, but this was something else. Something in the present that could hurt him and she didn’t know how to explain why or how. Not yet, anyway. If Suchin was still alive, Nix would tell her first and then they’d tackle the issue together. And… well, Kenshi wasn’t her, but the principle was the same, wasn’t it?

“Yes, we’re coming,” she assured Takeda, before turning back to Kenshi. “Later?”

He nodded. “After breakfast.”

As soon as they entered the dining hall, Takeda darted off to sit with a group of kids similar to his age and rank. Nix ducked her head as she smiled, watching him interact like a normal, well-adjusted child. At least as normal and well-adjusted as a group of tiny ninjas could get. Better than her childhood, anyway.

Probably better than Kenshi’s, too.

Hanzo nodded at them in greeting, gestured for them to join him at the table reserved for other masters and teachers. They both took seats across from him, served themselves as they exchanged pleasantries.

“Was your mission successful?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered, “Daegon is dead. About ninety-percent of the Red Dragon clan has been eradicated, including all those within his inner circle.”

Hanzo arched his eyebrows. “I imagine whatever cells remain will wither away without their leaders.”

She hummed, took a sip of tea. “If my brother doesn’t integrate them into his own organization, that is. Not a solution, but an improvement, at least.”

After all, her brother didn’t participate in human trafficking or allow drug addiction among his employees. His hands were plenty dirty, but he didn’t entertain disgusting crimes or compromised employees. A holdover from her time co-commanding the syndicate.

“I don’t understand why you let your brother continue to run a crime ring,” Kenshi said.

She shot him a narrow sideways look (again, completely lost on him) and clipped him in the ribs with her elbow, warning. Hanzo met her eyes across the table, eyebrows arched but understanding in the slant of his mouth.

“Even if I could win against my brother— and that’s not a guarantee— I couldn’t take him down for good,” she explained, sighing. Always questions with Kenshi. Her motives, her thoughts, her reasoning. She wasn’t used to it, honestly found it a little tiring, but…

“If I leave him as he is, then at least I know what he’s doing. He’s not getting bored or getting into something else and that’s safer for everyone.”

He blanched. “Right…”

She popped a ball of rice into her mouth. “Right. Why hasn’t your SF people tried to take him down?”

Kenshi shifted, frowned. “It’s hard to connect him to anything we can arrest him for. Hard to even find him, and then…”

“Your people couldn’t take him on,” she finished knowingly. “Can’t blame them.”

“They’re… not my people,” he said, sounding almost sullen about it

She snorted. With the way he reported back to them on the regular? “Coulda fooled me.”

Hanzo cleared his throat. Nix’s lips twitched with amusement as she put her hands up in mock-surrender, turning back to her food.

New rule: no arguing at meals.

***

“Me first, then?”

Hanzo was already there, after all, standing in the middle of the hall between them like he would need to play referee again.

Kenshi frowned and leaned against the wall across from her. “Knowing you, maybe you should go first. What happened in the hall?”

Probably for the best. She just had no idea how to explain…

“When I was growing up in Outworld, Quan Chi always had any number of projects going. If not to increase his own power, then to achieve his plans to free Shinnok. Most of the missions he sent us on were to retrieve artifacts or documents for those purposes.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stave off a headache as she felt that demanding presence prying at her defenses. It was no match for her, not anymore, but it made her skin crawl nevertheless.

“We were nearly killed for so many of them, but never  _ by _ any of them until this one…”

Hanzo tensed, eyes sharp on her expression as her own drifted to her scuffed boots. She hated telling stories to anyone but Takeda. And even then he always had to ask first. She hated  _ these _ stories especially. But she’d suck it up because the safety of his clan was more important than her issues with her past.

“Most dangerous weapons we ever procured for Quan Chi. They’re called Kamidogu and they possess layers of powerful, nasty magic.”

She glanced at Hanzo, but there was no recognition in his features at the name. That didn’t mean much though, considering what it was. There were few who were truly aware of what the Kamidogus were or their danger.

“I don’t really remember their origins,” she continued, “but there are six of them. Even one can give the user insane power for a blood price. The Elder Gods used them to trap Shinnok in his amulet, and since then they’ve become vessels for a demon.”

There was vague screaming in the back of her head. The outraged screeching of a desperate entity. It was distracting, nagging, but not impossible to think through. She ignored it and focused on her two companions.

“You sensed one here in the temple,” Hanzo surmised.

She nodded. “They look like ceremonial daggers— a little glowy.”

Hanzo’s eyes widened and then narrowed, face twisting into restrained snarl. The heat around him shimmered with new heat. Ah, so he knew what she was talking about after all. Nix waited with her arms crossed.

“Raiden,” he snarled.

Her eyebrows shot up. Oh? “What?”

“He brought me a dagger years ago. Told me to safeguard it here.”

She pushed herself off the wall, ears ringing with shock and unwelcome magic. “Show me.”

They walked quickly through the halls, across a couple courtyards, to one of the armories. Mounted on a stone pedestal at the back of the room was one of the daggers she and Nate had retrieved for Quan Chi, once upon a time.

“Yup, that’s a Kamidogu.”

Kenshi frowned. “It feels…”

“Yup,” she repeated. “It’s the presence contained inside. It tries to get into your head, manipulates and twists you into giving in so it can take over. That’s why I felt wrong earlier; it was trying to convince me to use it again.”

“Again?”

She grimaced and ducked her head— not that it did anything to hide her from Kenshi or his questions. For a blind man, he had a way of seeing right through her to the things she hated most about herself.

“Is it so hard to imagine?” she asked, eyeing the blade. Dripping with blood and ichor, a few drops of her own a small sacrifice for buckets of others. Of those who hurt her and Nathan. She shook her head. Those were memories better left buried. “That said, it’s not safe here.”

Kenshi frowned as Hanzo crossed his arms, grim and thoughtful.

“It’s been here this whole time, hasn’t it?” Kenshi pointed out. “Why is it only dangerous now?”

“It’s been dangerous this whole time. Whatever enchantments are on it now are not enough. If I can hear it, others can too. It’s only a matter of time before it chooses someone more susceptible.”

And in a compound full of ninjas, that would be deadly no matter what. From the grimaces on the men’s faces, they were thinking the same thing.

“It needs better enchantments,” Hanzo stated. “Would you be able to make them?”

She considered. “Yes, but that’s just a start. It needs to be put somewhere else, for everyone’s sake.”

He nodded, probably already thinking through plans and safeguards. She turned to Kenshi.

“Any chance your fearless leader left other Kamidogu to unsuspecting mortals?”

His jaw was tight, resignation in the set of his shoulders. “Unfortunately, I’m almost certain of it.”

She groaned and scraped a hand through her hair. Of course. Raiden had balls, telling her to protect Earthrealm when he was putting it in danger at every turn. And now what? She had to do something about it; clean up his mess once again. A couple of years ago she wouldn’t have cared, but now that she had Takeda, Earthrealm was her problem because it was his home.

Only issue was that to fix this clusterfuck, she’d have to go direct to SF  _ and _ Raiden. Not only did both those parties kind of hate her, she’d promised Takeda that she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him so soon. Meaning they were in a damn difficult spot, not made any easier by the fact that this was more of a political/social obstacle than a tactical one.

No amount of weapons or magic was going to make this easy.

“I hate him so fucking much sometimes,” she hissed, massaging two fingers into her temples.

“Well, I suppose this will help me convince you of what I wanted to talk about,” Kenshi mused.

Her eyes darted towards him and narrowed, going very still. If she stabbed him now, would it save her the aggravation? No, it would just cause more problems because Takeda seemed to like him. Fuck.

“Oh, and what would that be?” she asked carefully.

“You and I need to visit SF.”

The direct approach was appreciated, but didn’t help how her hackles raised. “ _ Why _ ?”

“Well…”

Hanzo chose that moment to pat both their shoulders, and then disappeared in a flash of fire. What was—

“If you and I are doing this co-parenting thing, we can’t do it with SF on your ass.”

Ah, okay. Hanzo was avoiding the domestic argument about to unfold. Couldn’t blame him, but that _ bitch _ .

“Alright…” she began, “and you think all will be forgiven if I show up and say I’m really, really sorry, I just had a rough childhood?”

Kenshi’s jaw twitched. “You’re being difficult on purpose,” he accused. “Just listen to me, would you?”

She sighed. After being a tool for her own government and her own army and her own war, she wasn’t keen on pretending to play nice with another. Leaders had agendas and prerogatives to put goals above people. Militaries thrived on cohesion and submission to the cause, on order and regulation. She was past a point where she could accept enforcement of any of those things.

But she promised she’d try to do better with Kenshi. He’d been as patient with her as she could expect and paid trust forward. It was time for her to pay that back.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she sighed. He looked a little stricken at that. Had she never apologized to him before? “I’ll hear you out. Let’s just… get away from this stupid dagger.”

He nodded and fell into step beside her as they left the armory, thoughtful silence between them. They wandered for a few moments before finding a semi-isolated courtyard overlooking the Fire Gardens. Nix gazed out at them and waited, giving Kenshi the opportunity to explain in his own time.

“It would be safer for Takeda if he was in SF’s system,” he started and she huffed.

“You can’t use him as a selling point to convince me every time, you know.” She shook her head. “And I’m not exactly keen to have him hanging around a military.”

Kenshi shot her a look. Being difficult again. She sighed in resignation and nudged him to continue.

“Look, he never has to see them again after this, but they’re a good alternative to have, aren’t they? Good backup for you too, considering how often you get injured.”

She frowned. “I’ve gotten by.”

“You’ve  _ just _ gotten by,” he pointed out, “and you wouldn’t have to any more. I’ll be watching your back, but I’m not as durable as you. Besides, if I take a bad hit and you can’t heal me…”

And fuck him for making valid points. Healing magic wasn’t exactly her schtick. It was passable enough in an emergency (for her) and kickstarted her natural healing process, but she wasn’t confident it would save Kenshi if he sustained enough damage. And she didn’t want him dead. In fact, she was starting to want the opposite.

“Places to rest, information on Outworld and any threats from the old regime. Besides, we have to go there anyway, to figure out who else has Kamidogu,” he continued. “That’ll work in your favor. There’s not much to lose.”

She tilted her head. “My freedom.”

He snorted. “They don’t have a prison that could hold you.”

“Raiden might…” She’d certainly thought of it before. The possibility of him getting sick of her roaming free and unbridled, the day he finally considered her more of a threat and liability than a potential ally. The thing that scared her was how she would react now, having Takeda, having this… concern for other people.

It’s a creeping thought, swimming at the back of her mind but never allowed at the forefront because she’s not ready to face the reality. It’s exhausting, to be that afraid of the holes she’s allowed in her armor but unwilling to close them again. Unable to, really.

“If Raiden thought he needed to imprison you, I think he would have tried already,” Kenshi assured, “and he wouldn’t risk it. You’re too powerful and too dangerous if you got free somehow.”

She dropped onto her ass at the top of the steps, feet planted on a lower stair and arms propped on her knees. “That’s not as comforting as it used to be.”

There was a beat of silence. Then he settled down next to her, their shoulders touching. The closeness should have bothered her, the temptation to encourage such vulnerability. Instead, she stayed and pretended not to notice.

“That’s a good thing, I think,” he mused slowly, “and it’s probably a good indication that you’re in a place to try opening up negotiations with SF.”

She straightened her spine, scanning his face. “That means they…  _ want _ to have a conversation?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth ticking up. “I have it on good authority that they’d be open to it. They’re wary, yeah, but you’ve got me vouching for you, so that goes a long way.”

Huh. That… that was something. No one had ever done something like that for her. She didn’t have a name for it, or for the emotion that made her throat tight and her face warm. She had the appalling notion that if she’d been any more emotionally healthy she would’ve been tearing up.

“But it’s not like you can just smooth over my crimes,” she pointed out, “don’t they have… I don’t know,  _ principles _ or something?”

He chuckled, leaning his shoulder into hers a little more, like he could  _ sense _ that there was a mess of things going on in her mind.

“Well… as far as I can tell, it seems like you can get out of a lot of charges based on technicalities and jurisdictions,” he replied, “and besides, it’s not like you’re going to  _ bring those things up _ , right? Because that would be asinine.”

She snorted and gave him a gentle whack to the ribs. Yeah, true. She wasn’t about to spill her guts to Special Forces. If they didn’t know about something, and they weren’t going to bring any of it up, then neither was she.

“Alright,” she sighed, “we’ll go to SF. I’ll do… paperwork, or whatever. What about Takeda?”

“He should come with us. We need to get him in the system too,” he answered, “and we should try to do something as a, uh, unit.” 

Family unit. Gods, that was weird to think about, but that’s what they were. Taken by a sudden flood of warmth, she reached across her knees and squeezed his hand.

“Thanks for this,” she said.

He squeezed back. “Thanks for listening.”

Alright, so maybe this whole…  _ thing _ wasn’t so bad after all. Everything was still up in the air. Who knew how well a meeting with SF would go, if they’d make demands of her or throw down ultimatums. It seemed complicated if she thought about it for too long, but it was simple enough when she just focused on what was best for Takeda.

“Also, you get to tell Hanzo that we’re taking Takeda for a couple days,” she said, standing. “I’m going to find our kid and tell him.”

Kenshi groaned, but when he joined her, there was a small smile on his face as well.

“Fair enough,” he grumbled.

As she turned to leave, he caught her wrist in a gentle but unexpected grip. It said a lot for how she’d changed that she didn’t try to punch him. That when she spun in surprise, she still took a small step back to let him know that she was listening.

It said even more that when his arms circled around her, that her response was to freeze rather than fight. There was a beat as her mind short-circuited, rebooted, and then processed what was happening. He was… hugging her. Yes, that was definitely a hug. She gave and received enough from Takeda to recognize it, even in this form—

This form being a man whose height and musculature hadn’t quite registered until then. Kenshi was taller than her by a head, packed with muscle, and he emitted heat like a furnace. One of his arms was coiled around her waist, fingers curled over the crest of her hip. The other curved around her shoulders, thumb stroking where the neckline of her shirt ended at her shoulder.

And it was… it was nice. So nice. He smelled like evergreen and spice and faintly of clove oil from polishing his sword, filling her nose and fogging her uneasy mind. She pressed her face against his chest as she circled her arms around his abdomen slowly, carefully. His warmth seeped into her and diffused throughout her body, loosened something in chest where her heart was beating a bit too hard.

She felt surrounded but not claustrophobic. Safe and… and comforted. Had she needed comforting? Probably. She never would have asked for it, but she was glad that he’d gone out on that limb again.

When he pulled away, she blinked up at him, feeling stupidly breathless.

“What was that for?” she asked, voice uneven and confused.

He shrugged. “Been wanting to give you one for a while. Figured I wouldn’t get punched this time.”

Well, he hadn’t been wrong on that last part, but what did he mean—

“I’ll find Hanzo and contact SF. We can leave tomorrow morning.”

She would have thought he had teleportation powers for how fast he suddenly disappeared, leaving her at the top of the steps blinking. Alright, well. She might like Kenshi too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone made it through okay! Slow and steady progress on their romance. Next chapter should be an actual kiss or something.
> 
> Also, it's take your kid to work day! Yay, Takeda!


	20. Fourth of July

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix takes a leap of faith and faces her newest obstacle as a mom. Kenshi realizes he should probably be involved in this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New semester...... RIP

Mom seemed worried. She seemed that way a lot lately.

Part of it was missing mama, Takeda knew. He missed mama too. The world seemed a lot scarier without her in it. It probably seemed scarier to mom too, now that she had to take care of him. It was part of the reason he’d wanted to become a Shirai Ryu. Mom would have somewhere safe to put him. Then, one day he’d be strong enough that she wouldn’t have to put him anywhere.

But she was also worried about Father— or maybe  _ by _ Father. She was trying to trust him, Takeda could tell. She just wasn’t used to trusting more than a couple people at a time and they’d gotten off to a bad start already. It seemed like things were getting better, though, and whatever was happening today was— what had Grandmaster Hasashi called it— a leap of faith.

He really hoped that everything turned out okay.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

They were standing at the entrance to the Shirai Ryu temple, waiting for Father. He was supposed to be packing his things for their trip and saying goodbye to Grandmaster Hasashi. Or maybe having more grown-up talk. Whatever was going on, the grandmaster seemed worried too. Or maybe he was always grumpy…?

“Well, remember those jackbooted thugs from the US that I told you about a long time ago?” mom asked, and when Takeda nodded, she continued, “Kenshi is taking us to them because he works with them.”

Oh, right. Super— no,  _ special _ forces. Mom had once said they didn’t like her because she used to be a bad guy and she didn’t like their stupid rules. She’d said that back in the war, they’d all just avoided each other and kept doing it afterwards.

Yeah, that seemed like a good reason to be worried.

“Well, it’ll be okay, because I’ll be there, right?” he figured.

He’d already tilted his head back to watch her face, so he caught her rapid blinking and the furrow between her brows before she looked down at him. 

“Because you’ll—?” she shook her head a little. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Things just seem easier for you when I’m around.”

She opened her mouth like she was about to say something, then laughed a little. “You… you do, kiddo. You make everything better.”

He ducked his head to hide his pleased grin, heart squeezing in his chest. Mom hadn’t always been good at saying stuff like that. 

“Look at that,” Father’s voice came from behind them, “I left you two alone for five minutes and you managed to stay out of trouble.”

Mom turned as Takeda took her hand. Father was blind, so he didn’t know that she had started smiling whenever she saw him. Takeda didn’t think mom knew either. It felt like a secret only he knew about.

“What are you so smug about?” Father asked as he joined them.

Mom didn’t lie, so Takeda didn’t either, but this was a secret he wanted to keep. “I’m excited to go to work with you guys for once.”

The corner of Father’s mouth curled up as he ruffled Takeda’s hair.

“Too bad it’s all paperwork today,” mom grumbled.

He’d heard people talk about that on TV shows, so he reacted the way they always did. He groaned. Loud and long and with enough feeling that anyone who heard it would believe he knew what “paperwork” actually meant.

“Don’t worry, bud, I’ll find us something fun while we’re there,” mom said, grinning at him.

Father suddenly looked a little pale. Mom patted his shoulder and then turned to the steps.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” she sighed.

A glowing purple portal appeared in front of them. No matter how many times they did it, Takeda always loved going through them. It felt weird and tingly. Like walking through a thundercloud.

They walked out into a cool, dry night. Sand shifted beneath Takeda’s sneakers. The desert. He’d never been to the desert. He didn’t even know the US had deserts. Whenever they’d visited in the past, it had always been to the cities and coasts. The air was dry but cooler than he expected.

There was a tall fence in front of them that stretched out in a big circle, with barbed wire curling at the top. Inside the fence, a bunch of tall posts cast bright lights on a cluster of big gray buildings. Every few feet were guards in tan uniforms, big guns in their hands and strapped to their backs.

“It looks like something out of a movie,” he said. “What is it?”

“A military base,” mom replied, frowning, “and yes, they all look like this.”

Father shot them both a look. “Love the energy, Nix.”

She snorted and bumped her shoulder into his. “Lead the way. You’re in charge.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Father muttered as he began walking for the fence.

Takeda glanced up at her, giggling when she winked at him. They walked a couple steps behind Father as he headed for a big door in the fence, protected by a couple guards on either side. He greeted them, but didn’t say much more as he set his hand on a scanner by the door.

One of the guards glanced down at Takeda, then up at mom. She shifted like she expected trouble, her expression closing off. The guard frowned, hands twitching on his gun. Takeda edged behind her, suddenly feeling uneasy as he tugged on her belt.

“What are we doing here?”

“Paperwork,” she answered.

“But what does that  _ mean _ ?”

A pause. “Uh… I actually don’t know. Kenshi?”

The gate buzzed and Father pushed it open and held it so they could get through. The guard that had been staring didn’t stop them. Takeda breathed a quiet sigh of relief and let go of mom’s belt.

“Well, we have to update both your files, get your prints in the system,” he explained.

They walked to one of the unmarked grey buildings. There weren’t any windows or decorations or anything! How did Father know where he was going? Everything looked the same and he couldn’t even see!

They stopped at a flat metal door with another keypad and a single guard this time, though he didn’t have his gun out this time. The second door opened to a bunch of hallways with important-looking people, all of them walking very fast and looking very busy. It was so quiet that he felt awkward about his shoes squeaking on the shiny white tiles.

“This place is so big,” he observed, worried by all the twists and turns they were taking. The inside wasn’t much better than the outside. The walls were all light blue, without pictures or posters or anything interesting.

“I know,” Father said. “Just don’t wander off without me or your mom and you won’t get lost.”

Yeah, as if he was going anywhere when everyone had guns. Mom was the only person with a gun that he trusted, and even she didn’t like using them.

“Don’t be so anxious, kiddo,” mom said. “You’re actually pretty safe here.”

“I like the Shirai Ryu temple better,” he replied.

She snorted. “Yeah, me too. This’ll only last a couple hours if we’re lucky, and then we can go do something fun, okay?”

He nodded, sticking close to her side as they finally reached what he hoped was the last door. He only hesitated a moment before gripping mom’s hand harder and following her inside.

There were a bunch of computers and screens along the walls, and three people standing around an oval-shaped table. None of  _ them _ were wearing the tan uniforms most of the other people had been in, but they seemed important. Mom’s hand twitched as the three people stepped away from the table to meet them.

“Kenshi, it’s good to see you again,” a blonde lady said, then turned. “Phoenix, welcome to Special Forces Desert Command.”

“Sonya Blade, wasn’t it?” mom replied, nodding. “You were at the last tournament before the war.”

From behind Sonya Blade, a man in a pair of sunglasses stepped forward. He kneeled down and as Takeda got a good look at him, his eyes went huge.

“Hey, little dude. You must be Takeda.”

“You’re Johnny Cage!” he blurted, barely keeping himself from jumping up and down. “I’ve seen all your movies!”

Father made a disgruntled noise as Mister Cage flashed his famous smile. “You’re a fan! I can’t tell you how awesome that is.”

“ _ You’re _ awesome,” Takeda breathed. “Do you really do your own stunts?”

Mister Cage puffed up with pride. “Of course I do. You’re— uh… Phoenix can back me up.”

Her eyebrows shot up as she looked him up and down. “We’ve met?”

Mister Cage had already turned back to Takeda. “C’mon, kid, let’s get you in the system and I’ll answer any questions you’ve got.”

He hesitated, glancing up at mom. She was frowning at Mister Cage, her expression tense. Her shoulders looked tense too, all the way down into her arm. The ring mama had given her pressed into Takeda’s skin. But Father put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed and she sighed.

“Go ahead with Mister Cage, honey,” she said, letting his hand go. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Takeda nodded as Mister Cage stood and then followed him to a big wall of computers and a nice lady with a headset.

***

Kenshi’s hand was still on her shoulder, steadying and restraining. She was grateful for both, because she wasn’t sure what was going on, how she should be reacting. The part of her that hadn’t changed was wary, uncomfortable. The part of her that was trying to change, that had a child and a co-parent, was cautiously optimistic.

And the latter was currently trying to convince the former that all the people staring at her were not threats and enemies.

Kenshi’s hand on her shoulder, his calm presence at her side, it was helping. She wished she could tell him, because that seemed like an important thing to do, but another little squeeze assured her that he knew.

There was a beat of silence. Nix met Sonya’s eyes. She vaguely remembered her at the tournament, but not well. That whole event was a smudge of chaos, apart from the bits where she was extracting Nathan’s consciousness from the amalgamation of Ermac.

“We’re open to some sort of working relationship, but this goes both ways,” Sonya said, “If I think for even a second that you’re going to betray us…”

The threat went unsaid. Nix didn’t goad her to finish, even though she doubted that there really was one. One worth saying, anyway. In return, Nix didn’t say that if she did plan on betraying them, Sonya (or anyone else) wouldn’t even have a second to think about it. They wouldn’t be able to think it at all.

Instead, she nodded to Takeda, who was speaking to Johnny Cage with stars in his big brown eyes.

“I’ve got someone to take care of now,” she offered, “but I understand that you’ll do what you think you have to.”

Behind Sonya’s eyes, there was a spark of genuine empathy that Nix wasn’t expecting. It sent the distrustful side of her reeling. Another beat of silence. Then—

“Kenshi said you’ve got something to warn us about,” Sonya began, taking a single step back and crossing her arms. “Let’s hear about that and then we’ll update your file.”

And that seemed to break the tension. Nix followed her to a round conference table while her second-in-command— something with three letters, X at the end like her own— greeted Kenshi warmly. The table was unmarked and well-polished, a projector buried in the center for presentations and briefings.

No one else sat, so Nix didn’t either, resting her fingertips against the edge as Kenshi stationed himself at her side. She was surprised by that too. She’d made (admittedly) snide comments that he was their people because she’d kind of believed it. But positioning and body language alone told her what he’d been insisting— he was an independent agent, and now he was with her.

Or maybe she was with him.

“Alright,” Nix muttered, refocusing herself, “I’m not one for lengthy explanations, so I’ll make this quick. There are six magical daggers in existence that have been possessed by a powerful demon. They have the potential to cause a lot of death and possibly the end of this realm.”

Sonya’s second— Jax, Keshi had called him— blew out a heavy breath and rocked back on his heels.

“You weren’t kidding, lady,” he huffed. “You got right to the point. How do you know about this?”

“Hanzo Hasashi has one in his armory right now,” she answered. “He got it from Raiden. Kenshi is under the impression that Hanzo wasn’t the only one.”

Jax and Sonya exchanged glances, the former crossing his robotic arms and shifting. Ah, so he had another. Fucking  _ great _ . She tapped the back of Kenshi’s hand; he continued where she left off.

“Nix put a temporary spell on the one Grandmaster Hasashi has, but it’s just a stop-gap until we can implement better,” he said.

“And even then it’s not as effective as I’d like,” she added.

Kenshi inclined his head and finished. “But it’s better than nothing. Until we find something permanent and effective, she needs to do the same to the others.”

The other two frowned at her. She met their eyes in turn, waiting.

“Why are these daggers so dangerous?” Sonya asked. “What can they do?”

Kenshi tilted his head towards Nix again; she was the “expert,” after all.

“Alone, they have a sort of… psychic thrall. They target people, persuade them into using the dagger. Once that person has cut themselves with it, they’re all but invincible, but then the blood magic takes hold and… it’s hard to explain what happens after that.”

Unbidden, the sensory memories rushed in. Blood on her hands and the thrill of her pumping heart in the silence of others. The look of surprise on Shang Tsung’s face when she’d turned on him and nearly gutted him on the spot.  _ That _ she remembered clearer than any other from that whole mess, and how good it had—

Kenshi’s knee bumped into hers. She shook herself off to find Sonya and Jax eyeing her.

“I guess you have experience with these things, then,” Jax surmised.

She sighed. “After you use the dagger it’s all blood and death, no matter who it’s directed at.”

“You said  _ alone  _ they do those things,” Sonya said. “What about together?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Nix admitted, shrugging, “but it has something to do with Shinnok.”

Sony and Jax tensed. From across the room, Johnny’s head twitched towards them.

“We need better security for those things, ASAP,” Sonya said. “What’s your plan?”

Nix ran a hand through her hair. She hadn’t put much thought into it beyond a few ideas, more focused on Takeda and dealing with the meeting they were currently having.

“Well, I could try a few spells, see if those work,” she mused, “but Raiden might have powers I don’t, being a god and all.”

Overall, she doubted it. If he wasn’t confident in his own abilities in Outworld then she doubted he’d have much effect on the Kamidogu. They were supposed to have been forged by the Elder Gods, though, so perhaps he had some information that she didn’t. And… actually, wait—

“He might have one himself, and he of all people shouldn’t use them.”

Gods, she hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to do that. She would outright  _ pray _ that he didn’t, if there was any other god willing to listen. If it would keep him from making such a fatal mistake.

“We’ll put out a line to him,” Sonya said. “What can you tell us about this… temporary spell?”

“It helps muffle the demon, in simple terms,” Nix explained. “Shortens its radius of influence, weakens its, uh, voice. Doesn’t take a lot out of me, doesn’t need any special materials, and lasts a month or so.”

“Those better spells would need more?”

She nodded, then added, “I might need to experiment.”

Jax shook his head. “I think it’s better if we get it right the first time.”

“Any way we can make that happen?” Kenshi asked her.

She frowned, wishing she had an answer. “We should contact Raiden.”

Kenshi’s eyebrows arched. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

The attempt at humor was appreciated, even if it fell a little flat given the subject.

“First time for everything,” she snorted.

She started to lean over to nudge him, then thought better of it and straightened out again. The conversation lulled while the new information— the new  _ threat _ — settled in.

“He’s a cute kid.” Nix glanced up at Jax as he nodded towards Takeda. “Can’t say he has great taste in movies, though.”

She huffed with amusement, glanced over her shoulder as Takeda spoke with unwavering animation. For Johnny’s part, he didn’t look the least bit bored or irritated..

“I don’t know why he likes them either,” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching up. “But I’ve watched all of them with him.”

Something flashed in Jax’s eyes, similar to Sonya’s earlier. “Yeah, my little girl can’t decide if she loves princess movies or action movies, but I’ve watched ‘em all with her. Know all the Moana songs.”

A laugh escaped her before she realized it. Kenshi perked up. Nix ducked her head before she could see him grinning at her, smug because he’d assured her everything would be fine and he’d been right so far. She hoped he kept being right.

“Takeda gets Mulan songs stuck in my head all the time,” she assured. Takeda was staring at them now, clearly excited to tell her something. “Was there anything else?”

When Jax and Sonya shook their heads, she tapped Kenshi’s bicep with the back of her hand.

“Be there in a sec,” he told her.

Nix stuffed down the paranoid part of herself and nodded. “Okay.”

Takeda and Johnny glanced up as she approached, wearing matching smiles. Oh gods, she was lucky they hadn’t gotten into anything in the ten minutes she’d left them alone. Was this how Kenshi had felt this morning?

“Mom, they fingerprinted me! Like in movies!”

She bit back a sarcastic remark about how  _ great _ that was and smoothed his hair. “Was it how you imagined?”

“It was even better!”

He launched into things “Mister Cage” had told him, and how he’d gotten to see a copy of his prints on the computer screen.

Well, so long as he was enjoying himself…

“Now I’m excited, too,” she teased before turning to Johnny. “How’s it coming along?”

“Just about done. There’s some information you and Kenshi might need to answer for him though,” he answered. “We can get started on your file, if you want.”

She nodded, picked Takeda up and sat him on her lap so she could take the chair he’d just been in. Johnny continued to hover while the tech working at the computer turned to her.

“Uh, we have a first name but not a last name…” she began.

“I don’t have one,” Nix answered.

“Uh, right,” the tech answered, “then… let’s start with family history?”

Great…

***

Raiden appeared in a crack of thunder that nearly deafened the entire conference room. Takeda jumped about a foot, grabbing onto her shirtsleeve as Nix stood. Yeah, of course, _that_ was the way to do it. Inflict hearing damage on your allies and fry half their equipment. Made total sense.

“Raiden,” Sonya said, stepping forward to greet him.

“Sonya Blade. Why have you called me here?”

So much for pleasantries. What, was something alarming happening to his tea garden? Was he going to miss a sunset somewhere? Nix rolled her eyes as she stepped forward, drawing his attention.

“You’ve got some explaining to do.”

His eyes widened. “Phoenix.”

She arched her eyebrows. “Hey, there. Mind explaining what the  _ fuck _ you’ve been doing?”

“Mom?” Takeda asked. “Who’s… this?”

She pressed her lips together and inhaled as Raiden’s eyes dropped down to him, sandwiched between her and Kenshi. If she let him, Raiden would derail the whole conversation over Takeda and she couldn’t let that happen. There was too much to discuss, too many questions that he needed to answer.

Before she could kneel down and explain to Takeda that he’d need to go wait somewhere else, Sonya stepped in.

“That dagger you gave Jax,” she said. “What is it?”

Blunt as always. Definitely a soldier, not a spy. Nix sighed and placed her hand on Takeda’s shoulder as she glanced at Kenshi. His expression was as undecided as she felt; he shrugged. Fuck but Suchin used to make the decisions about what Takeda should and shouldn’t hear.

“They are magical artifacts,” Raiden answered. “That is all you need to know.”

Well, it looked like the choice had been made for her. No one was talking about explicit murder, so she’d let it slide. After all, Takeda wasn’t a fragile kid. He’d heard plenty of censored “shop talk” when she’d visited in the past.

“Only you could think that  _ evil magical daggers _ should be given to people without their knowledge,” Nix scoffed. “You’ve put sleeper cells in the hands of most of Earthrealm’s defenders and expect this world to survive.”

Raiden narrowed his eyes. “I gave them to Earthrealm’s defenders to protect them. What do you mean they’re evil?”

Was… was he serious? A scan of the others in the room confirmed that she’d heard him right, so it hadn’t been a spontaneous hallucination. Which meant…

Her eyes flashed, her next words through gritted teeth, “You gave them those daggers without knowing what they can do?”

His brow furrowed. That was answer enough. Only the knowledge that Takeda was watching kept her from decking him then and there. She needed to set an example, didn’t want to scare him. However, she was also  _ pissed _ . So pissed, in fact, that Kenshi had to grab her arm to make the lights stop flickering.

“Raiden,” he continued, only slightly calmer, while she tried to reign in her temper, “those daggers are dangerous. Why would you give them to the others without warning?”

Raiden raised a hand as if to stop them. “I do not understand these accusations. What do you think you know about the Kamidogu and why are you,” he pointed at Nix, “involved in this?”

After a brief recap of what had happened, Raiden looked like he’d gotten a taste of his own electric medicine. Nix was still too mad to be smug about it; she’d rather have not had to deal with it in the first place.

“The Kamidogu are the pieces to Shinnok’s freedom,” he explained finally. “Powerful enough to contain him because they’ve been imbued with the essence of the one true being. With my blood, the Elder Gods made them the keys to Shinnok’s prison.”

Which just confirmed what Nix had long suspected— the Elder Gods were dumb as  _ fuck. _ No wonder Raiden was a goddamn idiot, his information was only as good as the source it came from. Nix was starting to get a headache. Oh, how she  _ wished  _ for this to not to be her problem. Or anyone’s problem.

If someone, anyone, could just apply some common sense…

“I just want to know  _ why _ you didn’t warn anybody, even if you didn’t know about the blood magic,” Johnny said.

Raiden sighed, a world weary sigh he didn’t deserve given he’d caused the problem in the first place. “You cannot betray ignorance.”

“No, you’ve been betrayed a whole lot,” Nix interjected. “Also, why the hell would you give people magical daggers if you were worried about being betrayed at all?”

Everyone was an idiot except for her. She was sure of it. It was some sort of phenomenon.

“I knew they would be safe,” Raiden insisted, shooting her a glare.

“No, see, that’s an oxymoron. You can trust them with the thing itself, but not what itactually is? That’s—” Nix broke off as Kenshi’s fingers tightened on her forearm. When she peered at him from the corner of her eye, he gave the smallest shake of his head.  _ Too much _ , his expression said. She’d gotten her point across.

She ran a hand through her hair and glanced Takeda. He was staring at her with wide eyes, but at least he didn’t look horrified. She’d take it. Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose. At her extended silence, Raiden finally seemed to gather himself.

“Now that we know there is a danger, we can address it before it becomes a true threat.”

“We were hoping you’d have some magic that would better contain the entity,” Sonya said.

He shook his head. “They are not of Earthrealm, so my powers are not well-suited for containing them. I would expect Phoenix to be more capable.”

She crossed her arms and slumped back against the wall. “I’ve already used the best I’ve got— the best I remember, anyway. It’s not enough. We need something stronger.”

There was a moment of pensive silence as they tried to find a viable solution. Jax spoke up first, scowling at the floor as he shifted.

“Would we have a better shot in Outworld?” he mused. “A lot of freaky stuff comes out of there— no offense, Phoenix— maybe they’ve got a spell or a magic… box or something.”

All eyes turned on her. If anyone would be aware of something like that, it should be her. Except what she should know about the realm she’d grown up in was blurry and vague, like most of her memories. She frowned, trying to think, trying to find clarity among the haze of pain and blood that bookmarked her childhood.

True, she’d been Quan Chi’s, but he’d still been beholden to Shao Khan’s authority (or at least pretended to be) and therefore so had she. For all intents and purposes, she’d been an Outworld enforcer, like Katana and Skarlet and Jade. She’d been sent to quell rebellions and squash riots as often as any of the others. And before that, she’d been tutored by the realm’s finest academics.

Why couldn’t she remember any of that? Why couldn’t she remember a single history lesson? A single folktale shared by her soldiers around campfires? All her questions only had one answer. The same answer. 

“If… if something like that exists… Quan Chi would have known about it,” she said finally.

“Yeah, that’s not really helpful,” Johnny scoffed. She knew that, of course. Even if they’d had him in custody, he wouldn’t have been any help. Just talked them in circles and confounded them with riddles until he could manipulate them into giving something in exchange for nothing. The only place he’d been direct had been—

“Wait, he had a study.” She straightened up. “His studies, his knowledge, even magical artifacts. And he had us recover Kamidogu for him before… he must have had some way to contain it back then. I bet we could find it there.”

“Kotal Khan has probably destroyed everything in there,” Sonya said, “if Quan Chi didn’t take everything with him, that is.”

Nix shook her head. “The way everything went down, he didn’t have time to collect his materials. And he wouldn’t have risked going back to the palace. I know that.”

“Sure, but Kotal Khan,” Jax reminded.

That name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place why. Didn’t matter. This was more important.

“Whoever he is, I doubt he has the magical capabilities to get through Quan Chi’s wards and enchantments.”

Johnny clapped his hands together, that million-dollar smile spreading across his face. “Sounds like we got a plan.”

“Hardly,” Kenshi scoffed. “Earthrealm is barely on speaking terms with Outworld. I doubt they’d trust us coming in with a unit for Quan Chi’s things.”

“I left one of the Kamidogu in Kotal Khan’s care,” Raiden said, “I am sure he will be interested in a solution as well. If I were to escort you to Outworld, perhaps that would suffice to gain his cooperation.”

Nix arched her eyebrows. That was probably the first competent plan she’d heard from him. She was kind of impressed.

“This isn’t official SF business, so we wouldn’t be sending a unit,” Sonya added, “Nix, how much backup do you think you need?”

She considered, only noting in the back of her head how Takeda sat up and looked between her and Kenshi.

“One or two people should be enough. Someone who can watch my back and handle any surprises, magical or otherwise.”

She already knew who she’d pick if she could, but he needed to stay back with—

“ _ You’re leaving again _ ?!”

Takeda stood so fast that his chair toppled backwards. He was breathing hard, face flushed. She froze, unsure what was happening, how she should respond.

“Well, yes…” she began slowly, calmly. He stamped his foot; her mouth snapped shut.

“ _ No! _ ” And she realized with growing horror that there were tears in his eyes. “You  _ can’t _ leave me again.”

She wasn’t sure what to do. Takeda was… was freaking out, there was a roomful of people staring, and she had no idea what to  _ do. _ A cold metal hand touched her shoulder. She twitched and turned, and her eyes must’ve been a little too wide because Jax’s expression was empathetic.

“We can wait for you to take care of your boy.” He nodded to a nearby door, different than the one they’d come in through. It led somewhere quiet, with any luck.

She nodded and turned back to Takeda. He wasn’t calming down. In fact, he seemed to be getting even more frantic. Inhaling to steel herself, she caught his shoulders and steered him away, nudging gently but firmly when he seemed reluctant.

The room they escaped to was well-lit, smaller but cozier. A furnished breakroom, devoid of anyone else. Nix sighed as the door clicked shut behind her. Privacy to manage… what was happening. She still wasn’t quite sure.

Takeda was standing rigid, staring at the wall. She rounded him and kneeled down, scanning his stubborn expression when he wouldn’t look at her. His eyes were still shiny, his arms crossed tight over his chest.

“Breathe, kiddo,” she murmured, “you’re turning purple.”

He took a couple deep breaths through his nose, lips smashed together. To keep them from trembling, she was sure. She scrabbled for something to say, some way to fix this. His outburst had made the issue clear: she’d promised not to leave again after Nathan.

“I know I just got back,” she began, “but this won’t be for a month. It’ll be a few days—”

“Why do you keep leaving me?!” he blurted. “Why won’t you just stay?”

She was shocked into silence, which was good because his next words brought a burst of clarity.

“Is it… is it because there’s something wrong with me?” The tears he’d been holding back poured forth, dripping off his chin and down his shirt. “Am I broken? You don’t want me anymore? Or… or did you never want me, and that’s why you kept...”

And something in her cracked. Something that needed to crack, maybe, but it didn’t feel good. It left her gasping for air, eyes stinging. She moved too fast for any normal human as she gathered him in her arms, not sure what to do but knowing it was right. Takeda showed her from there, like he always did.

He pressed his face against her neck, made room for himself to curl against her chest. She compensated for his weight until both his sneakers were braced on her thigh and she was holding him off the ground in a crouch.

“Takeda,” her voice wasn’t quite steady, “I love you more than anything in the world. In  _ any _ world.”

Fuck, he  _ was _ her world, but she couldn’t force those words out of her tight throat.

“Then, w-why—?”

This was bound to happened eventually; she was stupid not to see it coming. Because Kenshi had left before he was born. Because Nix was in and out of his life for almost two years. Because Suchin was gone, and that hadn’t been a choice, but she was still  _ gone _ . Hanzo had taken him on, but for a specific purpose and gods only knew what he was like as an instructor.

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Nix said. “Everything I do is to keep this realm safe for you.”

He sniffled. “I don’t want to be safe if it means you’re not here.”

It was a child’s response, the answer of someone too young to weigh such a desire. It wasn’t unexpected, but Nix still didn’t know what to tell him. She didn’t know how to convince someone, especially a kid, that they should take her protection (for whatever it was worth) because they were one of the few who had it.

The crying was only making it worse; Nix had never developed the necessary defenses against it.

It was at that moment that Kenshi finally joined them, pausing in the doorway like he wasn’t sure what he’d just walked into.

_ Hi, yes, you’re part of the family now and this is a  _ crisis _ , please help _ .

She didn’t say that, not even telepathically, but for all he couldn’t see her expression he must have recognized her helplessness. He crossed the room and kneeled down in front of her, though he didn’t seem quite sure what to do with them after that.

“What am I going to do with you two?” he sighed, but there was something in his voice— something warm, something… full— that made a noise catch in her throat.

He tilted his head, raised a hand. She watched him, too busy holding Takeda and feeling  _ things _ to do anything else. His fingers carded through their son’s hair, smoothing it down and away from his sweaty forehead. Then he travelled up to her, fingertips skimming her cheek.

She held still, skin tingling where they touched. His thumb brushed beneath her eye and came away wet. She blinked, not sure what to feel or think. By rights, she should have been appalled with herself for showing such weakness, but… fuck, if she couldn’t trust him then there was no one she could trust, and she was sick of living like that.

Following her own rant earlier— if she could trust Kenshi with her life, with her  _ son _ , she could trust him with stray tears.

“Can… can I come with you this time?” Takeda asked, finally surfacing.

She had been expecting that, but Nix hated that the answer wasn’t easy. Any other time, she would have considered saying yes. But Outworld was in the middle of a  _ civil war _ and she was going straight into Quan Chi’s den. That was no place for an eight-year-old.

She sighed. “Takeda, I don’t think that’s…

“Nix, I’ll come with you,” Kenshi said. “I’ll watch your back, keep an eye on him.”

She frowned. “The war…”

“We should be insulated against that in Kotal Khan’s palace,” he replied, “and we won’t be there long.”

There were too many “shoulds” and not enough hard information. What she did know for sure was that she didn’t know what to expect from Outworld, and she wasn’t used to minding someone who couldn’t defend themselves.

Fuck, she really couldn’t be objective anymore, could she?

“Alright,” she sighed, “but if I think for a second that you’re in serious danger, I’m sending you back here.”

Takeda nodded so hard that she was surprised he didn’t injure his neck. Kenshi circled his arms around them both and squeezed. Nix grunted, a wordless half-hearted noise that could pass for displeasure. But rather then let them go, he held a beat longer, there was a brief pressure on her head. Did he just… ?

“C’mon, let’s get a proper plan together with the others,” he said.

Takeda climbed out of her lap. Nix left him leaning against his father’s side to get some napkins for his face. As he cleaned up, she let her arm brush Kenshi’s as she stood by his side.

“An orange?” he asked, nodding towards the fruit she was peeling.

“He likes them after a bad day,” she explained.

Takeda smiled up at her as Kenshi took his shoulders and navigated for the door. Raiden and the others were waiting right where they’d left them, apparently in some sort of awkward silent communion. Nix got the last of the orange peel off and tossed it in a trashcan as they passed.

“Is everything alright?” Raiden asked, eyeing Takeda with blatant curiosity.

“Yeah, but we’re working the shortstack here into our plans,” Nix answered as they rejoined.

“What, like take your kid to work day?” Johnny joked.

Kenshi arched an eyebrow. “That’s a thing?”

“Yeah! Cassie loves coming to set with dear old dad.”

Nix snorted as she handed half the orange to Takeda, who started snacking on it with enthusiasm.

“Are you sure this is wise, Phoenix?” Raiden asked. “I can’t say I approve of this…”

“Well, it’s not my choice to make, and it’s not yours either.” She turned Kenshi’s hand over and placed an orange slice in his palm. “So let’s just make this little field trip as family-friendly as possible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The romance is happening okay, it's just slow


	21. Gasoline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Takahashi Trio travels to Outworld and Nix confronts a familiar face. Kenshi wishes she'd stop getting punched in hers. More conversations are had and Takeda gets to finally see what his mom's childhood looked like (watered down, of course).

There were relatively few logistics to work out, considering the lack of information they possessed. Raiden would bring them to Outworld and plead their case to Kotal Kahn. Nix would stay quiet and not antagonize or threaten anyone. Kenshi would be there as tactical support and keep an eye on Takeda. And Takeda…

“You’re clear on all the rules?”

A sigh too deep for the size of his lungs. Kenshi bit back a smile. “Yes.”

“Glowing objects?”

“Don’t touch them.”

“Strange voices?”

“Don’t listen.”

“Strangers?”

“Come  _ on _ , mom, I’ve known that since I was, like, five.”

There was a beat of silence. Kenshi could almost taste Nix’s anxiety. As Takeda had said that morning, she’d never let him come to “work” with her before. Kenshi was also pretty sure she’d never had to keep someone  _ alive _ before. That, compounded with  _ where _ they were going and  _ what _ they were doing, he was impressed she wasn’t outright pacing.

“Alright, get into your gear and grab a snack before we leave.”

Takeda jogged off to a nearby locker room. There was a sharp exhale, then Nix’s glowing silhouette dropped into the chair next to him. Her head tilted back, whether she was staring at the ceiling or getting a twinge out of her neck, he couldn’t tell.

“How are you holding up?” he asked. It would be a lie to pretend he didn’t have his own reservations about the mission, but his were mild compared to hers. Besides, one of them had to be calm.

“Am I being ridiculous?” she asked, sounding (adorably) distraught.

He bit back a chuckle and placed a hand on her shoulder. Tight muscles relaxed beneath his palm and she raised her head again. Not so long ago, she would have broken his wrist for even  _ thinking  _ of touching her. 

“No, but I think you should try to be more positive,” he said.

She snorted. “I think you’re missing a fundamental cornerstone of my personality.”

For all her wariness and solemnity, Kenshi had thought her view of the world was almost forcefully optimistic. Things would turn out fine because she’d  _ make _ them turn out fine. It could be compelling, now that he was standing on the same side as her. That Nix didn’t think of herself the same way was… jarring. 

“Have you been back since the war?” he asked.

“No.” The locker room door opened behind them, Takeda’s quick, quiet footsteps approaching. “I might be considered a war criminal, actually…”

“What’s a war criminal?”

“Uh…”

Kenshi snorted. “Don’t forget to grab a snack, son.”

“Oh, right!”

The cafeteria was just down the hall, so they weren’t too worried about him wandering off and getting lost. Besides, they both had a telepathic “eye” on him in case he  _ did _ get into anything. Kenshi gave it a 50-50 knowing his mom— both of them.

“I heard that, asshole.”

“I like that you save the little endearments until he’s out of earshot.”

That earned him a whack to the thigh, but he could hear her laughing under her breath anyway. Steps forward. Small ones, but steady nonetheless. They were already miles ahead of where they’d been a little over a month ago.

He was just about to say something about that— and probably make her uncomfortable in the process— when he heard someone else joining them. Heavy boots, the faint scent of cigares. He turned, confirmed it was Jax from the imposing pale blue silhouette that stopped in front of them.

“Hey, Jax.”

“It’s never not gonna be weird when you do that, man.” A pause. He turned to Nix. “Do you have a second?”

“Sure.” Only Kenshi detected the note of uncertainty in her voice. “What about?”

“I know you and SF haven’t always seen eye to eye, and we probably never will,” Jax began. “But Kenshi vouched for you and I can see why— you’re making changes and finding your path. Congrats on that.”

There was a beat of stunned silence. Nix swallowed and inhaled. “Uh, thank you…?”

She wasn’t great at taking compliments, was she?

“Personally though, I, uh… wanted to thank you for what you did, back in the war.”

Kenshi tilted his head, brows pinching together. In the war? What had she done in the war? He doubted that Jax was thanking her for participating indiscriminately in the carnage and destruction. From the confused tinge to Nix’s thoughts, she had the same thought.

“No matter why you did it, I’m not a Revenant anymore,” Jax continued. “That’s more than I can say for some of my friends. So, thank you.”

“Oh… you’re… welcome?”

And with one last nod, Jax left. As if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on both of them— but especially Nix. Because she was in so much shock, Kenshi could  _ sense _ it.

“You turned him back?” he asked when his voice worked again.

“I… can’t remember.”

Outworld was hotter than he remembered. Hotter and drier. The ground felt like hard rock, sand rasping beneath his boots. There was sunlight on his face, so they’d arrived during the day. For the best— the sooner they could finish this mission, the quicker Nix would relax again. As much as she ever did, anyway.

Per Raiden’s announcement of their arrival, there was a welcome party waiting for them. A small collection of pale-blue and white silhouettes. One of them, standing at the front of the group, was huge. To one side was a smaller figure, hovering above the ground and glowing the white that other psychics possessed.

“Raiden,” a deep voice greeted them. Nix’s mind flickered with agitation. “What is so urgent that—  _ you _ .”

Even if Nix hadn’t cursed (with feeling) under her breath, Kenshi recognized that tone. He might have used it once, not so long ago. So much for her not antagonizing anyone. Apparently her presence alone was enough to invoke people’s wrath.

“Is there anyone who doesn’t hate you on sight?” he wondered aloud.

“Uh… Hanzo that one time,” she answered as she ushered Takeda behind him. That… probably wasn’t a good sign.

Heavy footsteps drew their attention, as the large silhouette (whose identity he could already guess) stormed towards them. 

“Kotal Khan, stop,” Raiden tried, “Phoenix is here as a friend.”

Of course. Of course it was the exact person they’d come to see.

“Step aside, Raiden,” he snarled.

“Raiden,” Nix interjected. “This needs to happen if we’re going to get anywhere.”

_ You should probably cover Takeda’s eyes _ .

Kenshi followed her suggestion just as Raiden moved. And no sooner did he than a punch connected and Nix hit the ground with a grunt.

“Your audacity knows no bounds,” Kotal Kahn growled, “to return here, after all you have done…”

Nix pushed herself to her feet, shook herself off. Kenshi frowned. There was no crackle of magic around her, none of the heat that surrounded her when she was preparing for battle. Was she… not going to fight?

“I did what I was ordered to, the same as you.”

Kotal lashed out again, reaching for her shoulder this time. Nix jerked back, ducked beneath a right hook that probably would have knocked her out on the spot.

“You were without honor! Without mercy!” Kotal shouted.

She gasped a curse as a lower blow landed in her ribs. She retreated again, pain flickering across her mind as she gripped her side. If it was registering enough to be a distraction, then Kotal Khan wasn’t pulling any punches. Shit. Why wasn’t she fighting back?

“Father, what’s happening?” Takeda whispered. Kenshi could only squeeze his son’s shoulder with his free hand. 

“I know that,” Nix hissed. “There’s no excuse for it.”

“No, there is not. You weren’t following orders when you nearly killed Jade.”

Kenshi heard her bite back a groan. “Yes, I was.”

“Lies!”

Kotal Kahn let out a war cry and lunged, barrelling into her. They hit the ground with a heavy thud and Nix barely raised her guard in time for the blows that rained down. Takeda shifted, reminding Kenshi to loosen his hold. If this got any worse, he’d have to intervene and risk the boy seeing something he shouldn’t. Bad enough that he was hearing it, but… 

“It’s true,” Nix yelled. “I was under Quan Chi’s orders.”

Raiden took a step closer— Kenshi was starting to see what Nix meant about him being useless. “Perhaps you should listen to her. She has not raised a hand against you since she arrived.”

Kotal grunted. His hands formed fists in the pale gray outline of Nix’s shirt. Her front half lifted up. Then he slammed her down, Nix’s skull made a sickening  _ crack _ as it bounced off bare rock. Kenshi’s stomach rolled. The glow around her dimmed and flickered for a moment as she recovered, consciousness swimming.

“Explain.” It sounded like it came between gritted teeth.

“Jade was assigned an assassination later that week.” She sounded dazed. Not good. “Her target had an artifact and information that Quan Chi wanted. He ordered me to decommission her so that Nathan and I could do it instead.”

There was a beat of silence. Then another. Nix’s breathing wasn’t quite even in Kenshi’s ears.

“You left me to Shang Tsung’s mercy in the Flesh Pits.” His voice was still hard, though he wasn’t winding up to swing again. Small mercy. 

“I thought you were dead like everyone else,” she replied, “and I was rarely allowed in Shang Tsung’s workshop.”

“I  _ saw _ you there.”

“If I was, then I couldn’t have helped  _ myself _ , never mind you.” That familiar exhaustion in her voice. “And I can’t explain something I don’t remember.”

_ I don’t remember _ .

Kenshi’s suspicions had been piqued before, times when she’d been speaking to Hanzo. The last few hours had only confirmed it— first during their meeting with SF, then after the conversation with Jax, and now. Nix had gaps in her memory. Large, important ones.

When they’d first met, Kenshi had accused her of being insane, and Hanzo had alluded to something right before the war that had destabilized her mind. Were the gaps a byproduct of whatever happened, or something deeper and more intentional?

“Was it you who told Shao Khan?” Kotal Khan asked after a stretch of tense silence.

Nix coughed. “About you and Jade? No.”

And by some miracle, Kotal Khan believed her. He released his grip on her shirt and stood, towering over her before striding away.

“Can I look now?” Takeda complained. “Your hand is all gross and sweaty.”

Kenshi grimaced and let him go. Nix was already getting up, dusting herself off and muttering in another language under her breath.

“You’re bleeding, mom,” Takeda said. And it probably wasn’t healthy that he didn’t seem bothered by that, but it made things easier, at least.

Gods, he wished he could see what she  _ actually  _ looked like. Could judge the severity of her wounds for himself. The minute the fight had been over, her walls had gone up, protecting her thoughts and feelings behind psychic walls. 

“Ah, I guess I am,” she drawled. “I should heal up soon, no worries.”

“Yeah, you’ve looked  _ way _ worse,” Takeda chirped. “Right, father?”

Kenshi shook his head and didn’t bother to remind their cheerful son this was not normal. No need to worry him, even though Kenshi could feel an edge to his own nerves. 

“I did not realize you brought your son,” Kotal Khan said, an odd note of apology in his voice.

Nix didn’t even bother to glance at him while she adjusted her clothing. As if she hadn’t just gotten her bell rung  _ twice _ .

“Well, actions have consequences, and I have to accept that.”

Kenshi ran a hand down his face as Raiden cleared his throat. Of course she was turning this into some sort of life lesson for their son. He had to resign himself to the fact that they were a weird family— and he’d seen the Blade-Cages.

“With that resolved, we may now discuss our reason for coming,” Raiden said.

***

“I understand your concern, however I cannot allow the dagger to be neutralized yet.”

Of course it could never be that easy. From the way Nix sighed, she was also getting sick of all the hoops they had to jump through.

“Kotal Khan, the danger—” Raiden began.

“I am aware. But its rewards outweigh its risks,” Kotal explained. “I am in the middle of a civil war…”

“And it’s a trump card you can’t afford to lose,” Nix surmised.

A convenient excuse, likely influenced by the sentience within the dagger. Even so, they couldn’t just take it from Kotal Khan without causing (another) inter-realm incident. They needed his cooperation.

“Indeed, Mileena and her supporters are too powerful for me to forfeit any tools at my disposal,” Kotal Khan confirmed, “Even such cursed ones.”

Nix crossed her arms. “Who still believes in the old regime?”

“Apart from Mileena herself, General Reiko has become her most trusted advisor. Goro has sided with her in hopes of returning the Shokan to its former glory,” he replied, “and Rain, clinging to promises Shao Khan made him. As well as a small army of Red Dragon mercenaries.”

Those names meant little to Kenshi, though Nix shifted a little at that last one before the Red Dragon. Had they known each other?

“Well, the Red Dragon mercenaries have likely withdrawn,” Kenshi said.

“How do you know this?” Kotal demanded.

“Because I destroyed most of their clan,” Nix answered. “If they weren’t called back, then they left when their supplies stopped coming in.”

Kotal Khan straightened. “Then now would be the ideal time for an ambush.”

“Even with their foot soldiers gone, Mileena’s officers are not to be trifled with,” Raiden pointed out.

Nix exhaled a sigh through her nose. Kenshi had a bad feeling about what that meant.

“Ko’atal, if you could remove any two players, who would they be?” she asked.

There was a beat of silence. Kenshi couldn’t see Kotal’s expression, but he imagined shock.

“Mileena, of course.” Nix made a noise of agreement. “And Reiko. They are a dangerous pair.”

She hummed. Kenshi frowned. She couldn’t seriously be considering it. Just walking herself into a warzone as an assassin for yet another emperor. For fuck’s sake she was going to give him a heart attack. Every moment of this trip felt like walking a tightrope over the pits of hell.

“And would that be enough for you to let us access Quan Chi’s office and contain the dagger?”

“You think you could achieve such a task?” Kotal asked, disbelief clear.

She snorted. “Has it really been that long? This is what Quan Chi trained me for.”

Kenshi had heard her say that a few times before and had scoffed. She was so intent on abandoning her Outworld persona, but waved her mentor’s name like a badge of honor. Knowing her now, though, and knowing how she struggled with her past, he’d reformed his opinion. She wasn’t gloating, she was repurposing. Quan Chi had trained her to be his weapon, but she was using her powers and skills for herself.

“If you are able to complete this task… then, yes,” Kotal said. “I can afford to allow what you ask.”

She shrugged. “Consider it done.”

Nix was powerful and capable, there was no question about that. He’d “seen” it firsthand. But she wasn’t signing herself up for the usual Red Dragon cell, or a scuffle with Kano.

“I will ready my army to finish off her remaining enforcers. We will strike at the same time and finish this war once and for all,” Kotal Khan decided. “Rendezvous at the eastern gate in two hours.”

Nix’s head dipped in agreement. She shifted, stepping closer to Kenshi as the conversation came to a close.

“In the meantime, could we have quarters to rest and prepare in?” she asked.

Kotal waved a dismissive hand. “Your previous quarters are open to you. They haven’t been disturbed.”

Nix mumbled a very colorful expletive under her breath, but nodded again. Kotal Khan stepped away from the meeting table as Raiden approached him to speak, leaving their little family to some privacy.

“Mom, are you going to kick some ass?”

“Don’t swear,” Kenshi and Nix said at the same time.

He snorted, unimpressed. “Did you guys practice that or something?”

“Yes,” Nix answered immediately, “Your father and I rehearsed it when you weren’t looking. We have a few more, too, if you want to hear them.”

“Noooooo,” Takeda complained. “I wanna go see your old room.”

Kenshi couldn’t see her expression, but her groan spoke volumes.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that,” she sighed. “Alright, let’s go then.”

Kenshi couldn’t help grinning as he bumped his shoulder into hers, falling into step. “Any embarrassing posters you left up on accident.”

“Do I seem like someone who would have  _ posters _ ?” she asked.

“How hard will you hit me if I say yes?”

He got his answer immediately, the back of her hand whacking him in the side as Takeda giggled. She sucked her teeth as though annoyed, but he could sense her smile as their hands brushed.

As they travelled deeper into the palace, Takeda filled the silence with questions she barely had time to answer.

“You grew up here, right? Where did you play games? Where did you eat? Are there any secret halls or rooms, like in the movies? Did you ever race your brother down the halls? Was it scary at night? It’s so dark even though it’s day!”

Kenshi’s eyebrows arched nearly to his hairline. Did the kid ever breathe? And where did he learn to talk a mile a minute like that? That wasn’t something he’d picked up from Kenshi or Nix, and he didn’t remember Suchin doing that, either. A purely Takeda trait, then.

Nix only seemed amused, answering what she could when she could. At least she seemed distracted, not brooding over her past. Was that on purpose? Takeda was a smart kid, Kenshi wouldn’t put it past him.

They stopped beside a rectangle of space in the wall, the glow of magic white in Kenshi’s perceptions. Nix waved a hand, the shimmer dispersing to leave the dull grey outline of a door.

“Is this your old room?!” Takeda asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“It is,” she confirmed, pushing the door open. “Have at it, kiddo.”

Takeda bolted inside without hesitation. Nix let out a breath and shook her head a little as she followed, Kenshi right behind her.

It was a spacious room, the floor open apart from what felt like carpet beneath his boots. The silhouettes of lanterns hung from a ceiling draped with fabric. There was a desk to one side, stacked with long-abandoned books, some seats and a few tables.

Takeda darted past them, through a nearby doorway. There was a  _ whoop _ and then the sound of an eight-year-old cannonballing into a bed. Kenshi chuckled, following Nix into the adjoining chamber where the actual bedroom seemed to be.

And it was a large bed, too. Kenshi couldn’t perceive details, but it looked ornate and probably too fancy for Nix’s tastes. Soft, too, if Takeda’s gushing was to be believed.

“I wanna stay here  _ forever _ . Can we please take it back home, mom?”

“We’re not taking a bed back to Earthrealm.”

Kenshi laughed at the disgruntled noise their son made, shaking his head. Nix crossed the room to a chest pressed against one wall. As she squatted down to fiddle with it, Takeda stopped bouncing on the mattress.

“Whoa! Mom, is that you?”

She didn’t even glance up. “Yep. I think they painted that when I was… eighteen, maybe?”

Takeda was facing the wall Nix was kneeling at, staring above her where a vague shape stood out from the wall. Some sort of portrait, then? Kenshi wanted to see that.

“Hey, Takeda,” he called, “could you focus on that picture for me?”

Nix’s head shot up and turned, but the advantage of being unable to see expressions was being immune to her scowl.

“Kenshi!”

To his delight, Takeda actually listened. He wasn’t as practiced as Nix, the picture wasn’t as crisp as she could make it, but it was good enough. Enough to see a younger Nix, poised in a high-backed chair, draped in pristine white cloth and dripping with jeweled finery. Her hair was long and glossy, falling past her shoulders and braided in intricate patterns.

Behind her stood her uncle and brother, looking severe, each with a hand on her shoulder. It was the first proper look of her brother that he’d gotten— dark green hair and pale green eyes, the start of a sneer hinted at even on canvas. Their uncle stood on the other side, looking bored.

“What is that face you’re making?” he laughed.

There was an  _ oof  _ and Kenshi’s mental image disappeared as Takeda took a pillow to the face for his valiant efforts. Another quickly followed, slamming into Kenshi with a little more force.

“I will kick you both out of here,” she warned.

Unconcerned, Kenshi tossed the pillow right back at her, nailing her in the back of the head with uncanny aim.

“ _ Hey!” _

“Mom, why was your hair long?” Takeda asked, saving his father from an early death.

Kenshi shot him a thumbs up. Nix pretended not to notice.

“My uncle wouldn’t let me cut my hair,” she explained. “I had to look a certain way when I lived with him.”

Kenshi frowned, most of his mirth draining away. Quan Chi had seriously kept her from cutting her hair? Why?

“That’s stupid,” Takeda declared.

She chuckled, turning back to the chest she’d been rummaging through. “He’s stupid.”

“Your uncle is that guy with the weird red writing?”

“Yep.”

“And the other guy… that’s  _ my _ uncle.”

There was the slightest pause before she answered. “Yep, that’s your Uncle Nate. He’s also stupid.”

Kenshi made a noise of agreement and wandered closer, sensing that he wouldn’t be attacked by another pillow. There was clinking and clattering, metal against metal, the scent of old magics and sword oils. 

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

“An old weapon,” she answered, “I’m pretty sure it was… ah, yes! There it is.”

She extracted a small dagger— more of a knife, really. It was hardly anything he would expect her to want for a mission. Not when he knew her personal armory included daggers as long as her own forearm and a whip embedded with wicked little blades. Was it enchanted?

“Yes, but it’s not for me,” she said, keeping her voice quiet.

And oh… that was almost unbearably sweet.

“Shut up,” she hissed, but it lacked bite.

“When will you give it to him?”

A thoughtful pause. “Probably before I leave for the mission. He shouldn’t be unarmed, even if he doesn’t know how to use it yet.”

Kenshi hummed. Right, the mission. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted with amusement when they had an assassination looming over them. Seeing his expression— or maybe sensing his thoughts— she sighed.

“I suppose you want to talk about this?”

She wasn’t really asking, but he nodded anyway. Another sigh and she stood, the knife disappearing in a cloud of magic sparks. Takeda seemed oblivious, messing around in a bureau near the bed.

“Mom, I’m hungry,” Takeda called.

“How are you hungry, you just ate something,” Nix demanded, pretending at exasperation.

“I don’t know, I just am.”

His body was still on Earthrealm Himalaya-time, which meant it was just about lunch time. The snack he’d eaten while they’d been discussing matters with Kotal Khan wasn’t enough.

She chuckled and stood. “Alright, let’s get some food. Your father and I can talk about some stuff while we eat.”

The kitchens weren’t a long walk, and Nix brought them through the cook’s entrance with the habit of someone used to sneaking in for snacks. For whatever time of day it was, the kitchen was empty except for a handful of cooks making preparations for the next meal. They all glanced up as the three of them entered, and all of them froze.

“Lady Phoenix,” someone breathed.

Nix’s shoulders rose about an inch, spine stiff as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Kenshi could sense that it wasn’t the same discomfort as the SF base. This was something… awkward. Almost embarrassed.

“Your grace, it’s been… many years.”

Nix raised a hand, voice mild but strained beneath. “My boy and his father need food, if you’d prepare us something.”

There was an immediate flurry of movement as most of the cooks hurried to acquiesce. There was only one person left, a woman with an older voice who smelled of baked goods and spices. She approached wiping her hands nervously on a towel.

“Anything for you, your grace?”

Kenshi could  _ feel _ her grimace, even as Takeda shot her a look that was remarkably pointed for an eight-year-old.

“Ah, I suppose,” she allowed, “and please… enough with my title. It’s… I’m not part of the new regime.”

The woman chuckled, hesitant for all it was genuine. “Begging your pardon, my lady. Old habits.”

Nix made an uncomfortable noise. Kenshi took pity and squeezed her arm. The woman noticed, cast him a long, curious look.

“His Lordship isn’t accompanying you… is he?” she asked, a tinge of fear in her voice.

Nix snorted. “That bastard would rather die than step foot in Outworld again.”

“Thank the gods,” the woman sighed under her breath.

Takeda leaned into Nix’s leg. “Why do you call my mom ‘Grace’? That’s not her name.”

The woman’s mind sparked with equal parts shock and delight as she crouched down to be at Takeda’s level.

“Well, that’s because she’s nobility, young man,” she explained brightly, “which means you are too!”

Kenshi somehow always managed to forget that technicality. But Quan Chi had been one of Shao Khan’s most trusted advisors, which had put the twins in similar positions close to the throne. For all they were assassins and warriors, they’d also been politicians— as bloody and violent as Outworld politics had been.

Still were, actually.

“Whoa, really?!” Takeda gasped.

“No,” Nix interjected, “I’m not nobility anymore.”

He groaned with disappointment as the woman chuckled and straightened.

“Why don’t you go with Izana, kiddo, I bet she’s got sweets stashed here somewhere,” Nix suggested.

Takeda perked up instantly, allowing the cook to take his hand and lead him deeper into the kitchen. Nix watched them go for a moment before turning to Kenshi, leaning her hip against a nearby counter.

“You’re… worried this time,” she said, “why?”

Always quick to the point. And just as confused as she always seemed to be by these conversations. He was surprised that she was still humoring him, though exasperation simmered beneath the surface of her curiosity. 

“You agreed to assassinate two people for Kotal Khan. Why wouldn’t I be worried?”

She shrugged. “It’s what I was built for. I thought you’d be happy that it’s for a good cause.”

He frowned, grabbed for her wrist. She jolted but didn’t pull away. No one ever questioned her when she said things like that, just accepted it as true with varying degrees of wariness. Even Kenshi had been guilty of that, at first. He knew better now, though. 

“You weren’t  _ built _ , Nix,” he said slowly, “you’re a person. That’s your only purpose in life.”

The tendons in her wrist flexed as she clenched her hand into a fist.

“Kenshi, I…” She swallowed, tugged at her wrist gently. He let her go, not wanting her to feel trapped. “We have a mission.”

“Not at your expense,” he insisted. “If you don’t want to do this, we’ll find another way.”

She ran a hand through her hair, shifting. “It’s not that I do or don’t. This is just the most efficient way. The things that would normally worry me about doing something like this… well, Kotal Khan isn’t a big concern.”

A part of him was still worried. Worried about her relapsing, falling back into bloody ways like assassination was an addiction. But she’d given him no reason to think that she would, that this was anything more than a means to an end. She knew her own limits, her own reasoning, and he had to her.

“Still… a political assassination?”

“You make it sound so dramatic,” she scoffed. “It’s just a fancy murder. Trust me, Outworld will be better off for it.”

He ran a hand down his face. Just going to ignore that. He knew from the start that Nix had a weird and slightly concerning view on killing.

“Alright, that aside…” He crossed his arms. “Your memories…”

She flinched, shaking her head. “Not right now.”

“This isn’t something we should ignore,” he argued.

“I know, but now isn’t the time, alright? Like you said, we have a double assassination ahead of us.”

He snorted but was already dropping it. It was hard enough to get her to talk without ignoring her when she made her feelings clear. If she wasn’t ready to talk about the gaps in her memory, he’d listen.

“Besides, we might find some clues in Quan Chi’s office. Maybe one of his experiments had a long-term side effect.”

He grimaced. “What the fuck was your childhood?”

“Can’t remember!” she answered cheerfully.

“I’m going to find our son.”

“Ooh, I hope he didn’t eat all the sweets.”

***

They met Kotal Khan and his battalion at the city gates as agreed, energized for the mission ahead. Takeda had weaseled his way into coming along, though he would be far from any actual fighting. Rather, he’d be staying back with the medics and Raiden. Nix had initially wanted Kenshi to stay behind with him, but another long conversation had convinced her to err on the side of caution (for herself) and bring him as backup to the “fancy murder.”

The three of them would travel with Kotal and his forces so that they could attack simultaneously. To make the timing right, they were riding the Outworld equivalent of horses over craggy terrain with the rest of the battalion. Takeda was sitting in front of Nix in her saddle, as she explained basic battle tactics to him with infinite patience. 

Kenshi simply observed, content to listen to them bond with a warm weight in his chest. There was a specific tone she used when she was teaching Takeda something new, encouraging and fond, almost musical. It was something he could get used to hearing, every day, forever.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever become a father. Had never considered himself fit to raise a child, balked at all the considerations to be taken into caring for another human being. Finding out about Takeda had been a bittersweet punch to the gut.

Initial impressions aside, Kenshi had been grateful for Nix’s presence. It had given him the time to consider what was best for both him and Takeda, to know that he was choosing to stay for something other than obligation. To process and accept the commitment he was making. She’d made him stop and think before he’d made a rash decision.

And now he got this.

Both of them, weird and contrary as they could be.

“Kenshi, a moment.”

He slowed his horse as Raiden approached on his own, sidling up on his flank. Kenshi could sense his pensive mood; he had a feeling he knew what this would be about. Nix noticed, sent him a telepathic nod of acknowledgement, and led her own horse out of hearing range.

“Is this about Takeda and Nix?” Kenshi asked.

“Indeed.” Of course. “But first allow me to offer my condolences for Suchin. I understand that you didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

It was a kind gesture, he figured, or it was meant to be, and he accepted it was a nod. It still stung; it still felt a little unreal. A sense of loss not only for her, and the person she had become since they’d last seen each other, but also the sort of people they could have been together.

But Kenshi was coming to terms with the idea that their paths had always meant to diverge. He regretted that he’d left her alone with a son, even unknowingly, but there was no going back to change the past. He’d long learned to live with the mistakes and faults of his younger years.

Another small part of his mind wondered— he’d been offered condolences, even by SF… had Nix? In the midst of everything else, had anyone bothered to acknowledge that she had lost someone? What about Takeda? Even their allies who were parents seemed to walk on eggshells around him, as if Takeda could have  _ forgotten _ and they didn’t want to remind him.

“I understand that this is a difficult time for you and your son,” Raiden continued, ripping Kenshi from his thoughts, “but have you begun thinking of what to do with him?”

He arched an eyebrow. “What to do with him?”

“Surely he’s not to remain with Phoenix,” Raiden reasoned, “and his natural abilities must be taken into consideration as well. You have laid the foundation for quite a legacy for him.”

Okay, he was  _ really _ starting to see why Raiden pissed Nix off so much. Maybe not so long ago Kenshi would have agreed, would have listened even if in part. But that was then, and this was now, and Raiden was lucky that Nix was out of hearing range.

“Just say what you mean, Raiden.”

He sighed, as if in the vain wish that the universe would just cooperate with him for once. “For all Nix has… changed, I do not believe she is a suitable parent for Takeda.”

Kenshi clenched his jaw on a retort, gesturing towards the pair instead. Nix and Takeda had moved on from battle tactics to practicing that unique version of English from Nix’s original dimension. Apparently, she was teaching Takeda the word for “butt” and he was having a blast.

“I know that she can seem charismatic… when she chooses, but children aren’t always the best judge of character,” Raiden said. “Part of being a father is making the hard decisions. You must do what is best for Takeda.”

Kenshi stiffened, but bit back his defensive anger. Raiden didn’t know her like he did. In private they had their disagreements, but in public there was an unspoken understanding that they were team now. He couldn't expect him to understand. But he could be pissed off that Raiden presumed to know anything about their family. 

“That’s his mom,” Kenshi stated, leaving no room for argument, "I'm not taking another one away from him, and neither are you.”

Raiden raised a hand, placating. "I did not mean to cause offense."

"I know," he sighed, "but let us worry about our son. You have a whole realm to take care of."

And before there were any more allusions to Nix's morality (or lack thereof) he nudged his horse to catch up to Nix and Takeda, leaving Raiden behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On god they're gonna have sex in the next chapter. And fight together-- which is like the same thing... right?
> 
> On a side note, I think... 4-5 more chapters in the work and then we are finished!


	22. Irresistible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix and Kenshi go on their first mission together. For once, no one is traumatized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said they were gonna fuck this chapter? I meant next chapter. This one got a little too long.

Kenshi didn’t look happy when he caught up with her and Takeda. He had that slightly constipated look on his face that meant he was reigning in his temper, and his shoulders were stiff. Had he argued with Raiden? First time for everything, indeed.

She exchanged looks with Takeda, then winked and nudged her horse closer to Kenshi’s. 

“Head’s up, Ken,” she warned just as Takeda scrambled into his saddle. Huh, they should probably teach him how to do that more smoothly. For tactical purposes, or something.

The horses snorted and chuffed, but handled the change in weight well enough while Kenshi fumbled to steady their son. Takeda plopped down in front of his father with a proud grin, shooting her a thumb’s up.

“We could have stopped for that,” he grumbled, but the corners of his mouth were curling.

“Eh, that’s no fun,” she replied.

“Yeah, that’s no fun,” Takeda echoed.

Kenshi snorted and flicked him in the shoulder. Nix bit back laughter, patted his thigh before moving her horse to a more reasonable distance. No sooner had she done that than Takeda started up with the questions, this time directed at his father.

“How are you driving a horse?” he asked. “I thought you were blind!”

“First, I’m  _ steering _ the horse, not driving it,” Kenshi chuckled, “and second, I  _ am _ blind.”

Which, to no one’s surprise, was not a satisfactory answer. Takeda craned his neck to squint at him, practically vibrating with repressed energy since Nix had already told him not to bounce on horses. Gods, they needed to find him something to do during the mission or he’d drive Raiden crazy.

Actually...

“Then how are you  _ stirring _ the horse?” Takeda demanded. Nix pressed her lips together to hide her smile. “And how do you fight? And use your sword?”

“Alright, alright,” Kenshi said, patting his head. “I’ll explain, just give me a chance.”

Takeda finally settled for the explanation, turning as much as he could to fix his father with an expectant look. Nix had been wondering the same thing, but figured it wasn’t really her place to ask. Kenshi was more than capable, didn’t matter why or how.

“My telepathy and telekinesis allow me to make a… picture of the world, in my head,” Kenshi began, which then needed to be supplemented by an explanation of what those two words meant before he could continue.

“I can only see shapes, no details or textures. Anything non-living is grey, most living things are blue. Anything magic or powerful is white.”

Ah, so he saw more than she’d even thought. Not her expressions, as she’d expected, but gestures and body language were within his scope. Interesting— and useful to know right before a battle, now that she thought about it.

“Wait, do I have tepa- tela- telekipathy?” Takeda asked.

“You have  _ telepathy _ for now,” Kenshi answered, “but you might get telekinesis as you get older.”

“Cool! Will you show me?!”

Nix smiled as she watched them, something in her chest loosening with each interaction they had. Now that they’d gotten through the initial awkwardness, she could see more and more the uncanny ways they resembled each other.

Smartasses with so many feelings and an unreasonable amount of concern for other people’s well-being— especially hers. It was as baffling as it was endearing.

She fell quiet as she idly listened to them talking. Takeda loved to learn and Kenshi had a lot to teach him about his own budding psychic abilities. There was no need to insert herself when they were bonding, and she liked listening to them harass each other anyway.

Before too much longer, they’d reached the camp. Kotal’s soldiers had already begun setting up with impressive speed while their little trio had hovered towards the back of the battalion. As they dismounted, they laughed at Takeda’s bow-legged stumbling, steadying him until he’d gotten used to walking again.

Kotal was waiting for them towards the front of the forming tents. They were at the edge of a mountain pass, overlooking a valley where a stone fortress poked up at the bottom. Mileena’s stronghold, a leftover from one of Shao Khan’s conquests. Nix thought she’d been there once before, maybe.

“There you are,” Kotal said as they approached, “come and look.”

Kenshi snorted, but joined her at the table Kotal was leaning over. It was built for his size, which meant Nix could just comfortably see over it, but Takeda couldn’t see anything at all. Kenshi scooped him up, balanced him on his hip while they looked over a map of the immediate area. Scrunching up her face, she waved a hand, the flat ink lines rising and morphing into topography.

“Oh, I can… see that,” Kenshi said, “it’s all magic, so I can see it.”

Nix made a pleased noise. That was convenient. “Good. Mileena and Reiko are together right now and they’re not expecting an attack, so they’re vulnerable.”

A bright spot of light appeared at the top of one of the towers.

“That’s them, I take it?” Kenshi asked.

“There’s hardly any magic protecting this place. I can teleport us in. You take Mileena, I’ll take Reiko. Shouldn’t take longer than… seven minutes?”

Kenshi hummed. “Seven with bad luck.”

She bit back a smile as she made a noise of agreement. Kotal shifted, considering.

“If we strike at the same time, there will be no time for her forces to collect themselves or find their leaders,” he said. “Phoenix, who would you recommend focusing our efforts on?”

She hummed. “Goro is the one to watch out for. I’d say you, specifically, need to deal with him, and have someone there as backup. Send your own officers after the rest of hers in pairs.”

Kotal nodded, crossing his arms as he considered. “Very well,” he said finally, “We will strike within the hour.”

“We’ll be ready,” she agreed.

He left to give his forces their orders.

“Mom…” Takeda said, voice small, “what’s going on?”

Her expression softened as she moved closer, smoothing his hair back from his face. He reached for her, and Kenshi transitioned him over into her arms.

“I explained the plan, remember?” she told him. “We won’t be gone long and you’re going to hang out here with the cool thunder god.”

“But… are you guys gonna be okay?” he asked.

She kissed his cheek, feeling her chest squeeze. “Of course. We’ll watch out for each other.”

Takeda nodded, leaning his head against her shoulder. “As long as you come back.”

“I promise we will. Here,” she set him on his feet and kneeled down so they were at eye level, extracting the dagger she’d retrieved earlier. “This was my first weapon. I got it back when I was your age. Now it’s yours.”

“I’m gonna learn how to use it?” he asked, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Yep. And it’s going to keep you safe up here while your father and I are working.”

Takeda nodded and let her attach the sheath to the belt of his Shirai Ryu uniform. Smiling, she ruffled his hair.

“My little ninja,” she chuckled. “You’re gonna be a badass one day, just like your parents.”

He beamed up at her, then gasped and turned, yanking on one of the straps around Kenshi’s thighs. “Father!”

He arched his eyebrows. “Son?”

“You should get something too!” He reached under his shirt and extracted the necklace Nix had given him on his last birthday. Taking Kenshi’s hand, he pressed the amulet into his palm. “So that mom knows when you’re thinking of her.”

And to her shock and amusement, Kenshi’s cheeks flushed. Had she ever seen him do that before? If so, not that brightly.

She bit her lip, unable to stop a smile as Kenshi looped the necklace over his head. The connection was instantaneous, as the magic contained within the amulet meshed with his own psychic abilities. Felt a bit like… telepathic bluetooth.

“You made this for him?” Kenshi asked.

“To call for me if he needed help. Suchin had the ring on his thumb.” Her hand strayed up to the earring clipped in the cartilage of her earlobe. The ones she wore had no traditional magic— just the magic of reminding her that she was loved and could give love.

“I guess this makes me an official member of the family,” he mused.

She snorted. Takeda giggled. Kenshi looked like he wanted to ask what they found so funny, but didn’t get the chance.

“Can I go talk to Mister Raiden now?” Takeda asked.

“Yeah, but just call him Raiden,” Nix said, glancing over to see the seven-foot jackass within her line of sight. Good, she could keep an eye on them. “Otherwise he’ll get a big head.”

“Okay!” And Takeda darted off to wreak havoc.

Kenshi chuckled, shaking his head. “You sure about letting him babysit?”

She arched an eyebrow, leaning back against the war table as Kenshi shifted to stand beside her. “What’s the worst he could do in ten minutes?”

He made a noncommittal sound. Nix glanced over at him, eyes falling to the amulet resting on his chest. A large, increasingly vocal part of her really liked seeing him wear it.

“You know this thing goes both ways now, right?” he asked.

She glanced away, clicking her tongue. “Damn magic.”

“Hey.” She started as he caught her hand.

Nix didn’t let people touch her hands, most of the time. Only Takeda, and Suchin when she’d been alive. Hands were fragile and sensitive, too vulnerable to trust anyone with. She needed her hands for fighting and magic and… well, everything else. To be fair, most people didn’t trust her hands, either, and for good reason.

But the Takahashis were hellbent on being the exception to her every rule.

She squeezed his hand in return. “Will you be alright… doing this?”

He’d been concerned enough to ask after her wellbeing, and she’d been so taken aback that she’d forgotten to ask about him. Nix had a dysfunctional— but not unpleasant— relationship with death. It was different for Kenshi. He had more lines he wouldn’t cross, harder lines. Compunctions about unnecessary killing.

He shrugged. “Can’t say I’m at ease, but… I’ve been keeping an ear out. Reiko and Mileena sound like nasty pieces of work. Besides, you’d go whether I came with you or not. I’d like you to come back in one piece.”

And if he kept saying things like that she was going to— well, she wasn’t sure. But she’d have to do  _ something _ because she couldn’t handle it.

“Aww, are you saying you  _ like _ me?” she teased, hoping to distract him.

He groaned and she imagined that behind the headband, he was even rolling his eyes. “Don’t get the wrong idea,” he drawled, sarcasm dry and thick, “It would just be so inconvenient if anything happened to you.”

She laughed, ducking her head as his thumb swept a gentle circle over her wrist.

“Ah, of course,” she replied, “and you don’t want to do all the work on our mission.”

“Obviously,” he agreed, grinning, “I hate group projects.”

It was… good. Nice. The handholding. The joking. The warmth and— and  _ affection _ that echoed from his own mind, into hers, and back again. Well, Nix had never been one for half-measures. That was one of the few things she could be sure was her own, not manufactured by Quan Chi.

Once Kenshi had dropped the self-righteousness and she’d dropped some of her walls, it wasn’t so hard to…

Well.

She wouldn’t trust just anyone at her back in a fight.

“Speaking of—” Nix glanced up as he turned, the fingers of his free hand brushing through her hair. “How’s your head doing? You got a bit scrambled back there.”

He was right; rocks didn’t make good cushions for heads. For a second she’d thought she would get a proper ass-kicking like she hadn’t had since before Suchin and Takeda. But Ko’atal had been as reasonable as ever, all things considered. It  _ had _ hurt, and it  _ had _ disoriented her, but she healed from head wounds the quickest and it had stopped bothering her a couple hours ago.

“I’m alright,” she answered. She tried to inject some exasperation into her voice, but it was belied by the way she leaned into his touch. “Quit fussing.”

“You need a break, after all this,” he said, ignoring her. “At least a week.”

“I don’t get breaks.”

“You do now.”

She huffed, caught someone staring as they passed, and finally batted his hand away. Not that she put much effort into it, but he acquiesced anyway. His hand settled on the table behind her, close enough that his thumb pressed against her back.

“We have to survive this, first,” she answered.

He hummed. “Any advice for Mileena, then?”

“I hardly met her before the war began. She’s… synthetic, is the best way to describe her. Kitana was the base, then spliced with Shao Khan’s genetics and brought to life in Shang Tsung’s flesh pits,” Nix explained, then gestured towards her mouth. “Part Tarkatan, so watch out for that.”

All things taken into consideration, Nix could almost feel sympathy for Mileena. Shang Tsung had produced her in a place of torture and pain, for one purpose. Her introduction to the rest of the world had been met with disgust and scorn and horror. Her father (unworthy of the title as he may have been) had been killed, their realm plunged into war, with her unprepared to take the helm.

Add to that the general awfulness of everyone around her, and then the Outworld civil war following the interrealm war, and well—

“She’s unstable and unpredictable,” Nix said, “but she was literally built for fighting, so expect some nasty surprises and a difficult fight.”

She and Nix weren’t so different, in a lot of ways. Or they hadn’t been so different a decade ago. The biggest difference between them had been experience and allies. At least Nix had had Nathan— perhaps still did if she ever truly needed him again. Mileena had no one, not even Shang Tsung or Shao Khan, as terrible as they both had been.

“Please don’t underestimate her,” she added. “I have your back, but I can’t work miracles.”

Kenshi grinned. “I don’t know… you seem pretty miraculous to me.”

And if her face felt a little hot? Well, it wasn’t like he could see  _ that _ .

***

Nix couldn’t have gotten the timing better. The timing or the positioning. Reiko and Mileena were plotting over their own war table when Nix’s portals materialized. She burst through from behind, barrelling into Reiko’s back with bone-crushing force and slamming him into the table.

Kenshi entered from the side, throwing Mileena across the room with a telekinetic blast to put some space between them all. Nix only had enough time to clock their position before narrowly avoiding an elbow to the face.

She wrenched a dagger from her belt and jammed it halfway into his side. His next blow landed in her face guard as he shouted. The power of it knocked her on her back, but not before she twisted the blade. He cursed, stumbling away from the table as she shook herself off.

In a past life, she might have waited for him to get his bearings to make it an even fight. Might have allowed him to recognize her, to call her traitor and make some quip about their shared history. She might have even taken some joy in it.

But she wasn’t there out of pride or to settle a score.

She was there to kill him.

Her eyes glowed as she recalled the dagger. It ripped through his side on the exit, blood spraying across stone. He screamed, caught himself on the table as his knees buckled. She unhooked her whip from her belt with the other hand.

She snapped her wrist, the end coiling tight around Reiko’s throat. His hands darted up as she widened her stance and  _ yanked— _

“Fuck!”

She was airborne. Only long enough to twist and land on her shoulder, hard. She rolled onto her feet, still gripping the whip, the table now between them. On the other side, Reiko was snarling, bleeding where the whip’s sharp teeth bit into his hands and neck.

“Agony,” he rasped, “no pleasantries?”

Her eyebrow twitched with annoyance as she tugged again. He held firm, didn’t even flinch. Well, then.

Reiko had always been a powerhouse, strength and stamina to match— maybe even surpass— the likes of Kotal. But this was a whole new level, and it stank of Blood Magik. Fuck, but she was past sick of Blood Magik.

New strategy. Reiko was a gifted strategist on top of everything else. He’d draw out the fight, save his strength and tire her out. It was the best way to fight someone like her. 

She inhaled to steele herself. Adjusted her stance.

She couldn’t let him drag it out. Speed and damage, telepathy and magic. He’d expect her to be careful as she had been in the past. To pick apart his fighting style and try to outmaneuver him.

She loosened her hold on the whip.

But she’d hit harder and faster than he expected, dodge instead of block his attacks. Exploit any and all physical weakness. The more he was injured, the better.

Kenshi had Mileena preoccupied. Reiko would try to use him against Nix, so she’d keep their fight away from them. A tag-team matchup wouldn’t work in their favor.

She eyed the distance between her and Reiko as purple light swam beneath her skin.

“I always did admire your—  _ agh! _ ”

He barely caught the table she kicked into him. The fresh dagger wound pulled and distracted him. Her whip hit the floor as she vaulted across the table, the steel sole of her boot slamming into his jaw. Momentum carried her over as he stumbled. She landed in a crouch, cracked her heel into his supporting leg.

His knee hit the ground. Her leg recoiled and struck his face again. He caught her leg, dragged her back and twisted. She had no choice but to turn her whole body or ruin the joint. It left her back vulnerable and his arm snaked around her throat before she could get an arm up to block.

She wheezed as he bent his other arm to lock the choke, rolling them onto their backs. Her dagger was still in her hand. She stabbed his thigh once— twice— he wasn’t letting go.

Her vision was already getting spotty. Her windpipe would collapse at this rate.

She plunged the dagger a third time and twisted, twisted until—

The pressure was gone.

A snarl ripped from her chest as she scrambled onto all fours, sucking air, blinking the darkness away. Reiko growled, dagger clattering from his leg as he lunged. She rolled to the side at the last minute, kneed the wound on his side again. A rib gave.

She cursed as his hand shot out, curled into the shoulder of her shirt. He flung her like she was made of air. Her back hit the leg of the table and  _ broke _ it. He didn’t let go, but dragged them both upright. Her feet weren’t touching the ground.

The punch was expected. It sent her mask skidding across the room; she reached for her other dagger. The second punch filled her mouth with blood. He caught her wrist right before she struck, squeezing hard enough that she felt the bones protest. Her grip on the hilt faltered—  _ shit _ .

Her eyes glowed as purple light flared between them, searing his arms and torso with unforgiving magic. Her legs shook as she landed, threatening to give. But she tightened her grip on the dagger.

_ Almost there. _

Just a little more…

Kenshi shouted. Her head jerked to the side. Mileena’s teeth were sunk in his forearm. He was on the ground, on his back. His armor offered some protection, but crimson still dripped onto the stone below. Nix shifted to throw her dagger.

It was exactly the opening Reiko needed. She didn’t see what hit her. Didn’t even know  _ where _ she’d been hit for a moment. Only that she was on the ground, pain exploding through her mind. Red simmered at the edges of her vision.

Reiko’s boot caught her in the stomach, at the bottom curve of her ribs. Something snapped. She hit the ground again and curled, gripping her abdomen.

He was talking, coming closer. Strolling, as if he had all the time in the world. She couldn’t make out the words, could only discern his smug tone. She grit her teeth. Her jaw ached. Her body screamed. The scarlet haze ebbed in further.

She blinked hard, dizzy and fuzzy. Her eyelids felt heavy The world was fading to a furious crimson…

“Nix!” Kenshi’s consciousness pushed at her own. Pushed the red away. “Get up!”

She’d promised him that she’d make it out in one piece. She’d promised Takeda she would come back.

A new rush of adrenaline flooded her. Her blood felt electric, sizzling through her veins. She inhaled sharply. Her vision cleared and sharpened. Reiko’s boots stopped next to her face. He kneeled down in front of her, tilting his head to meet her eyes with a mocking smirk.

“You’ve really—”

She surged up with a feral noise. Her fingers hooked in the strap of his chest armor. His nose connected with her skull, his teeth cut into her forehead. One of his hands reached for his face, the other snatched up the front of her shirt again.

Her body moved even as her mind reeled. She gripped his wrist, keeping it trapped against her chest. Her body twisted, legs sweeping up and around. His eyes widened with realization too late. She flattened out, pushed down with her thighs and arched her spine. The bones of his forearm splintered over her abdomen.

There was a blur in the corner of her eye. She flinched as metal glinted. And then Reiko gasped and spluttered. The leg of her pants was hot and wet. His body went limp.

“Nix? Nix!” Kenshi’s voice above her.

She blinked up at him, her grip on Reiko going lax. Kenshi was leaning over her, a little bruised and bloodied. But alive.

“Hi,” she breathed.

He grinned. His teeth were a little bloody. “There you are.”

She grunted, trying to catch her breath as she gave him a once over. He didn’t seem to be bleeding too badly, but he wore a lot of dark armor. He was on his feet, which was more than she could say for herself at that moment.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“No worse than you, I think.”

Her hum was barely more than a groan of pain. He sat back a little and scooped an arm under her shoulders.

“C’mon,” he said, “we gotta get back to our kid.”

She grimaced as she forced herself to sit up, gripping at her ribs even as her back protested just as loud. They stumbled to their feet, leaning heavily on each other before gathering themselves. Kenshi pulled his sword from Reiko’s chest with a squelch.

“How long did that take?” she asked.

“Hell if I know,” he answered. “Five minutes?”

“We had good luck, then.”

He snorted as he sheathed his sword. Nix limped away to collect her scattered weapons and mask, only casting a brief glance at Mileena’s body. She’d had a rough go of it; Nix almost regretted that she’d had to die.

“Think you can manage a portal?” Kenshi asked.

She hummed, considered. “Yeah, but that’ll be it until I can rest.”

He nodded and met her by the displaced war table. She glanced at the splintered leg with a twinge in her bruised spine, then took Kenshi’s hand and opened portals. One for them, and one for each of their fallen targets.

They stepped out into the camp, right where they’d left. Takeda and Raiden glanced up, the former perking up and darting over to greet them. Luckily, Nix had transported the corpses to a different part of the camp where he wouldn’t see them.

“That was so fast!” he said. Then, frowning, “You guys don’t look so good.”

Kenshi snorted. “We don’t feel so good, either.”

Down in the valley, Kotal Khan’s forces seemed to be doing well. Not that either of them could have gone to help if it was needed. But it was nice to know that their efforts hadn’t been in vain.

“The doctors are over there,” Takeda said, pointing to neat rows of tents further back from the overlook.

They trudged down to the medics, though Nix waved them away from her. She was only there out of a post-adrenaline urge to keep an eye on everyone. And also, she didn’t want to be left alone with Raiden. If he started on any of his usual holier-than-thou lectures she might actually stab him.

While the worst of Kenshi’s wounds were cleaned and bandaged, Nix stood by his side and ignored the growing pain throughout her body. She focused on Takeda instead, offering gentle corrections while he practiced his katas— at least Hanzo wouldn’t give them shit for ruining his training.

By the time Kenshi was patched up, Kotal’s forces had conquered Mileena’s keep. Nix stood at the edge of the outcropping, surveying the battalion as they returned in small parties. It had been a brief siege, but she couldn’t say she was surprised. Mileena’s remaining army had already been sparse, and that had been before their leadership was assassinated in their own fortress.

Kotal himself returned with the first of the battalion, brutalized but still standing after his own showdown with Goro. He eyed Kenshi and Nix waiting for him at the top of the slope, probably looking not much better themselves.

“You were successful.”

Nix’s lips twitch. How many times had she heard those exact words, the exact same way, after doing exactly what she’d just done?

“We kept our end of the deal,” Kenshi supplied in her silence. From the tilt of his head, he was concerned but not in a  _ we-need-to-talk-about-it _ way. “Mileena and Reiko for the Kamidogu and Quan Chi’s office.”

“Please tell me you didn’t use it against Goro,” she blurted.

Kotal grunted. “There was no need. I had the sun to aid me.”

He extracted the dagger from a sheath at his hip and offered it to her, handle-first. She shook her head; no way was she touching that thing. Summoning her magic, she used the reserves of her strength to cast the spells she’d used on the other Kamidogu. Kenshi pressed a hand against the small of her back right before she stumbled, subtly steadying her while Kotal retracted his hand.

“What did you do?” he asked, peering at it.

“It’ll suffice until we find a permanent solution,” Kenshi explained. “Just to keep the magic contained.”

Kotal nodded. “Half of the battalion will depart shortly. Feel free to rest in one of the caravans for the journey back.”

As much as her pride demanded that she decline, she’d reached her body’s limit and she wasn’t keen on passing out. Kenshi agreed for both of them and Kotal finally left, hopefully to get his own medical care. It seemed there had been few casualties, and only a couple handfuls of those injured to varying degrees. It wouldn’t take long to gather those no longer suited to duty.

“It seems this mission was relatively straightforward,” Raiden said as he joined them.

Nix hummed, noncommittal. The mission wasn’t over yet, after all. They still had to face whatever  _ surprises _ Quan Chi had left guarding his chambers. But those were thoughts for another few hours, after they’d returned to the palace.

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Kenshi agreed.

At the other end of the camp, about half the battalion was gathering to return to the capital. Among them were the injured and dead— separated, of course, as Nix deftly turned Takeda away— as well as Kotal himself.

“My officers are capable of finishing here,” he explained, “I’m more interested in what you may find in Quan Chi’s offices.”

They found a caravan of other injured soldiers, only half full. Those inside weren’t too badly off— mostly injured legs and abdominal wounds that would be aggravated travelling any other way. They all shuffled to the one side as Kenshi helped Nix and Takeda climb in. She couldn’t find it in herself to mind; didn’t like strangers lingering too close in the state she was in.

They settled into a corner, Nix unable to keep from wincing as her back pressed against the wooden siding. Even sitting up took herculean effort, so she slumped into Kenshi’s side. It was nice to not move anymore. Nice to just sit and relax and not worry about protecting herself.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked.

She hummed. “Night before our meeting with SF. Last night technically, I guess.”

He arched an eyebrow. “For how long?” he asked, skeptical.

“Four hours?” She shrugged.

He sighed, but there was something almost… fond about it? Maybe she was just tired. “You can rest, you know.”

“Hmm?”

Takeda was watching them with an odd expression on his face. She couldn’t quite decipher what it was, but it reminded her of the times he’d seen her and Suchin having private, tender moments. When she caught his eyes, she made a funny face and smiled as he stifled a giggle.

“I’ll keep watch. You can get some sleep and recover,” he said, “I haven’t forgotten that you didn’t let the medics work on you.”

She huffed. Of course he hadn’t. But his offer… “I don’t know.”

“I’ll wake you up if anything changes,” he promised, “but you can’t keep going like this, Nix.”

He hardly ever used her name, but the way he said it was like… like a term of endearment. Her heart thumped once, hard.

“I have before,” she argued, more out of reflex than anything.

“Yeah, but you don’t  _ have _ to,” he said, which was a pretty good answer.

It wasn’t like it would kill her. She shifted to lay her shoulder against his chest, dropped her head on his shoulder and tucked her face against his neck to block out the light. Takeda crawled into her lap and settled with his back against her chest, making himself comfortable despite her armor. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, assuring herself that he was safe.

An arm curled around her waist, too strong to be anyone but Kenshi. Her chest felt warm, her sore muscles loosened. The intoxicating sense of safety washed over her mind and lulled her to sleep.

***

Nix woke once when Takeda moved. Either he got too restless or uncomfortable, but he wiggled out of her arms in an obvious attempt to keep from waking her. Which meant he was probably just fine. Kenshi squeezed her hip as she squinted her eyes open to double-check.

“Everything’s alright,” he murmured.

She hummed, only realized she was reaching out when his fingers laced with hers, then fell asleep again.

***

Kenshi was speaking to someone. His voice was low and stern, but the cadence was soothing and familiar to Nix, and she dozed without opening her eyes.

“...let her… we’re doing… seriously… not your business…”

She sensed Raiden. Kenshi’s mind brushed hers, assured her that it was nothing worth her energy. She snuggled in a little closer, seeking warmth and the cushion of his chest for her bad shoulder.

“Too loud,” she mumbled, then drifted off again.

***

It was too still, and Kenshi was rubbing his thumb purposefully over the curve of her hip. She blinked, drowsy for the first time in a long time. Something brushed her cheek— she knew where both his hands were, so his lips, then.

_ Sweet… _

She tilted her head, her own mouth brushing his stubbly jaw. Not a proper kiss, but intentional nonetheless.

“Ken…”

“We’re here, hon.”

She noted the pet name, but was too sleepy to do more than recognize that she liked it. 

“Takeda?” she murmured.

“Here, mom!”

She sat up, ran a hand down her face and squeezed his shoulder with the other. Unfortunately, as she tried to sit up, her body made it clear that snoozing in the back of a wagon had been a bad idea. She groaned, not sure what she wanted to reach for first because everything hurt like hell. She winced and shut one eye as something dripped into it.

“Your face is bleeding,” Takeda said. He only sounded mildly concerned, which meant it wasn’t bleeding too much. Then again, her face had probably already been covered in blood.

“We’ll take care of it when we get back to our quarters,” Kenshi said.

She frowned. “Quan Chi’s office—”

“Can wait,” he interrupted. “You’re still exhausted and injured. Please just rest for once.”

She sighed. He was right. If she’d needed to, she could have forged onwards, but she didn’t  _ have _ to and she didn’t really want to, either.

“Fine,” she muttered, more because it hurt to talk than anything, “help me up, then.”

Not that he was in any better state to do that.

Actually— she winced with guilt— he was more injured than her, and had stayed awake on the ride back to the palace on top of that. She was so used to facing everything on her own, used to bearing pain and punishment to move onto the next task just to get it  _ done. _

But she wasn’t alone anymore, she couldn’t only think of herself. It was selfish and stupid and reckless to expect him to suffer along with her, especially when it was needless. Quan Chi’s office could wait for the time it took to heal and recharge after a double assassination. 

“Enough of that,” Kenshi said, tugging her up by the arm of her uninjured shoulder, “let’s just get some sleep.”

She shouldn’t have been so groggy, gods knew she’d had to do more with less, but sleep was too tempting to resist. Something to do with Kenshi and feeling safe, she figured. There was no need for an analysis at that moment.

They didn’t even bother checking in with Kotal or Raiden, stumbling off to her rooms without a word to anyone. Takeda, more coherent than either of his parents, led the way and held the door for them to walk through.

“Is there a bathroom?” he asked.

“In the bedroom and turn right,” she answered.

The bathroom, like her bedroom, was just as she’d left it, clean and dust-free. The floor was lined with seamless tiles, polished and pale to make it easier to clean. She glanced longingly at the lavish tub-shower combo that had been her sole reason for living for a time, but if she got in she doubted she’d get out again.

It was almost nostalgic to sit on the floor instead, fumbling medical supplies out of the cabinets and piling them up by her hip. Kenshi plopped onto the ground beside her, holding up a jar of magic ointment and smelling it curiously.

“Don’t you know better than to sniff at random containers?” she asked. Her face hurt but it was more important to give him shit.

“Why would you keep something dangerous under your sink?”

“Why  _ wouldn’t _ I?”

He chuckled as she scooted back to him, putting herself in easy reach. He removed his gloves while Takeda wandered over, looking mildly interested.

“Takeda, would you mind focusing on your mom’s injuries? Specifically where she’s bleeding,” he said.

Looking equal parts excited and determined, he squatted down in front of her and stared extra hard at her face. She tried not to laugh at his expression, angling her face to give him the best view of her injuries.

“Just patch up what’s bleeding and we can deal with the rest later,” she said.

Kenshi nodded and pointed at the shelf behind Takeda. “Could you wet a cloth for me, buddy?”

Nix smiled as Takeda hurried to follow instructions. When she reached to take the cloth, though, Kenshi’s arm darted out and took it first. She arched an eyebrow.

“What the—”

“Just let me take care of you for once,” he chuckled.

She rolled her eyes. “You take care of me all the time.”

“You literally never let me,” he replied, “please, Nix.”

She snorted. Only in their family would someone  _ ask  _ to take care of someone else.

“You’re just as tired as I am, though,” she pointed out.

“I can hold out.”

He wasn’t giving up and she was too tired to argue, so she sighed fondly and turned her face towards him.

“Have at it, then.”

His touch was gentle despite her words, drawing the cloth through crusted blood and dirt. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, a soft sound leaving her throat as his other hand cupped her face. The sweep of cool water on her bruised jaw was soothing, the warmth of his hand comforting. She didn’t even mind the sting when it passed over her split lip or the cut in her forehead.

She was vaguely aware of Takeda wandering off, bored now that his assistance wasn’t required.

“Are you falling asleep?” Kenshi asked, tone low despite the amusement lacing it.

“No…”

He chuckled, his thumb sweeping over her cheekbone. “It’s not a big cut, at least. Anything else bleeding?”

She hummed, giving herself a quick mental inventory before shaking her head. Despite how her body hurt, it wasn’t the worst shape she’d ever been in. A couple days, maybe, and she wouldn’t feel it at all.

“Just bruises and maybe some broken bones,” she offered.

“Nix—”

“It can wait. Just stitch me up and let’s go to bed.”

He finished cleaning up her face and neck, then reached for the stitches by his knee. She lowered her eyes and settled herself in for the bite of the needle, and realized then how close they were sitting. He was facing her at an angle, their legs tangled together so that he could get close enough to work.

Being close to him felt… kind of like the gravitational pull of the sun. Steady and consistent and warm, but she was starting to welcome the burn, the building combustion. Her hands were idle in her lap, but she curled one hand around his wrist as she felt him finishing up.

“You alright?” he asked.

She hummed, squeezing gently. “Thank you.”

He arched an eyebrow, a half smile curling his lips. “And you were so against me helping,” he teased.

“I was against a lot of things when we first met,” she said. Emotions weren’t her expertise. For a long time, she’d operated under the impression that she had none. Verbalizing them was almost impossible most of the time, but she wanted to tell him. She needed to. “I was wrong. So thank you… for taking care of Takeda, for giving me a chance, for watching my back and being a voice of reason.”

He was still, listening. Waiting. She swallowed and glanced down as she twisted her hand, intertwining their fingers.

“You’ve been good to me.” She sighed because that was such an understatement, “even when we argue and I— you mean… so much to me now.”

And she wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t for him to lean forward and kiss her. But she couldn’t say she was complaining. In fact, she was doing the opposite of complaining. She was tilting her face to get a better angle, pressing herself against his chest.

It felt like centuries since she’d last kissed someone, but Kenshi was patient and gentle, almost chaste at first. When his tongue traced the seam of her lips, she didn’t hesitate to part her mouth, welcome him in. They tasted like blood and sweat, her jaw twinged and her lip stung, and all she wanted was to stay in that moment forever.

No one had ever kissed her like that. Like she was precious, like she was worth the care he held her with. Like nothing mattered more than the moment they were sharing. Somehow he’d snuck past her defenses in such a short time, become someone she trusted and relied on. She wanted him in all his infuriating morality and inconvenient virtues.

The realization knocked the breath out of her as much as his tongue stroking hers, just as slow and thorough and tender as everything else he did. Her hand slid from his wrist to his shoulder, curling loose in the torn shoulder of his uniform. A pleasurable tingle running down her spine as he sucked her bottom lip— even as it started bleeding again.

She couldn’t help her noise of protest as he pulled away, though she couldn’t blame him either.

“We’ll continue later, if you want,” he promised, “but maybe we should get some rest first.”

She laughed, swiping her tongue of her lip as he touched his head to hers. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

They hobbled up from the floor together, washed out their mouths, and made a beeline for the bedroom. Takeda was playing with something in the antechamber— nothing that would hurt him so she wasn’t worried. They fell onto her bed without bothering with the blankets or their clothes, and fell asleep wrapped around each other.


	23. Would That I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix and Kenshi wake up the morning after the assassination and finally resolve some long-standing tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, the smut I promised several chapters ago good fucking god that took forever to get to.

Nix never felt good when she woke up. Sleep was hard to come by; a necessity, not even a luxury. The only times she could get through more than a few hours uninterrupted was if she was physically too tired to wake up from nightmares. Then it just  _ hurt _ , which was only marginally better.

So, waking up was either on the heels of something horrific or something painful— or both on really bad days, and she only slept because she  _ had  _ to.

She’d been expecting no different after the assassination. After all, she knew for a fact that at least three ribs were broken, perhaps more from where she’d hit that table. Her wrist would be bruised down into the bone. And though her jaw was pretty hard to crack, Reiko had been trying real hard, so she’d give it a fifty-fifty that he’d managed something hairline at least.

Bone injuries were always a pain— took a bit longer than stab wounds, assuming they were already set to heal right. Her advanced healing tended to prioritize soft tissue damage and head traumas first, which meant fractures and breaks took a backseat and by that point, her body would slow from exhaustion.

And she was definitely feeling it when she woke, but… not as badly as she’d expected. Not for how long she could tell she’d slept— double digits, holy shit. She wasn’t even in pain at first, until she tried to move to figure out why she was so warm and comfortable.

She remembered that she’d fallen asleep with Kenshi. Knew that he would be there when she woke up. Yet somehow… somehow the reality shocked her, a little, when she opened her eyes to his tac gear. She paused, taking stock of their positioning and trying to figure out how tangled they were.

She’d ended up on her uninjured side, her head pillowed on his chest over his heart. One arm was thrown over his middle, just skirting a stab wound. The other was folded under her, wedged up against his side. A glance down revealed that the weight on her hip was his leg closest to her, thrown over it. The other weight, this one across her shoulder, was probably his corresponding arm.

What really threw her, though, was when she tried to move her head and realized that the fingers of his other hand were threaded through her hair. Had she really slept through that? And why was she still letting him?

“You know…” She jumped; hadn’t realized he was awake too. “It’s surprisingly soft.”

Something warm and tingly settled in her stomach as she forced herself to relax again. Kenshi didn’t seem inclined to move, and he wasn’t hurting her, so they could stay like this for a while if he wanted.

“Do you want to?” he asked, slightly more aware, but not by much. “Is this comfortable?”

She paused, figuring he didn’t mean physically. It was unusually intimate for her. She wasn’t used to people touching her in general, but especially her hair. It just… didn’t really happen. It was short, so not worth it to grab in a fight, and otherwise— well, it went without saying that she was unaccustomed to comforting contact in general.

Not quite up to talking yet (she had been choked the day before, after all) she patted his side and nuzzled her face into his chest. He smelled like sweat and blood, but she didn’t mind. Nothing she wasn’t used to.

Kenshi made a sleepy noise, something that rumbled in his chest and filled her with a more gradual heat. There was a rough, honeyed quality to his voice that she wanted to live in. Despite waking up in her childhood room, in a bed that she’d slept in wounded a thousand times before, there were no memories surging up to haunt her. Just his voice, low and content, filling her mind.

She could get used to that.

“It really is soft,” he hummed, running his fingers through her hair. His nails scraped lightly across her scalp and she sighed, tilting her head into it like a cat. “Kinda like you… softer than I expected.”

She snorted softly, a wordless scoff, even as her heart gave a little squeeze that she hoped he couldn’t feel. When he inhaled, she realized he had more to say. Perhaps he wasn’t as out of it as she’d thought. It only took a little shifting to turn her head comfortably, so that she could see his face as he spoke.

“You’re a good mother,” he said, “and a good partner. I haven’t thanked you yet, for being both of those things.”

There was a pause as he seemed to gather his thoughts, but his heart was still steady, his breathing deep and even. She admired that he could do that without working himself up, without getting frustrated trying to express basic emotion. 

“I used to think that being good was an all or nothing kind of thing, and that people are expected to be good. But you’ve never had the luxury of thinking like that.”

Which was true. Good and evil as concepts hadn’t been part of her consciousness until long after she’d left Outworld, and hadn’t carried weight for longer still. Still, no matter how she teased him, he didn’t usually wax poetic about good and evil like this. What was he trying to say?

“But despite everything, you’re somehow still…” he stopped, frowning. She waited. “No, not despite, but  _ because _ … what I’m trying to say is— I was wrong too.”

She bit her lip on her smile and hid her face against his chest—  _ finally _ hearing his heart skip— even though she knew he couldn’t see it. Maybe it was the high of post-mission optimism, but she felt light and… happy. Weird. Not bad, just weird. She still didn’t care about being a good person, but she was starting to care about him thinking she was good.

And yes, she knew that all her walls were down, that he could sense what she was thinking and feeling because she was all but projecting it. That didn’t feel as dangerous as it once did. Protecting herself all the time was exhausting— especially when it felt pointless. She trusted Kenshi with her injuries, her life, her son. Her thoughts and feelings weren’t in any danger.

His fingers ran through her hair again, acknowledgement and agreement in one, and she practically purred. She could imagine the reaction if anyone from her past could see them, but that was fine. There was no one in her past she wanted an opinion from anyway.

“How are you feeling?” Her voice was soft and a little husky, freshly repaired tissue in need of a warmup, but at least it didn’t hurt.

“A little vulnerable, but emotionally cleansed.”

She snorted and dug her chin gently into muscle.

He chuckled and tugged her hair. “A little sore, but I’ve had worse. Could use a bath, though.”

“Lucky for you I’ve got a gigantic bath.”

He hummed. “Where’s Takeda? He’s not in the room.”

“Kitchens with Izana,” she answered. “He must have gotten bored.”

“Let’s hope he made us breakfast.” Even he didn’t sound like it was a real hope.

With a groan, she pushed herself up, hissing at the pain branching through her abdomen. It was annoying more than anything, but she reassured Kenshi’s concerned silence that she was fine.

Moving was easier than it had been the previous day, less a hobble and more a trudge. In the bathroom, they did another quick once over of injuries. Nix removed her own stitches from her forehead, since the facial wound had already healed. Then she scanned Kenshi’s, assuring herself that the healers had not only put him back together right, but also that they hadn’t been aggravated while they slept.

“And you say I fuss,” he scoffed as she poked around a knife wound.

She shot him a glare and pinched an uninjured patch of skin. “Make your telekinesis useful and turn the water for the bath.”

Water splashed behind her. She grinned as she smoothed a hand over his side, the one he hadn’t been stabbed on. His fingers brushed her ribs in mirror, so careful that it didn’t even twinge the broken ones. They were standing so close, almost sharing air.

“You don’t usually let people this close,” he observed.

“Not usually.”

She wasn’t sure how they agreed to it, who reached out first. Maybe it didn’t matter. But they were easing each other out of armor, out of clothes, steadying one another while they toed off their boots. Kenshi’s palm lingered over the bruise on her back— a slanted rectangular splotch of uniform purple.

She felt hyper-aware of his touch, even as she tried to assess the bruising on her ribs through the steam floating in the air. Mottled purple and blue, they were healing quicker than— his arms curled around her, obstructing her view. She glanced up at his face just as his chin settled on top of her head. He looked… ridiculously content for a man who got stabbed three times the day before. Almost smug.

Then she realized that she was leaning back into him, her hands settling on his forearms with nowhere else to put them. Without her boots on, the height difference between them was almost comically exaggerated. Sometimes even she forgot her own stature.

He dropped a kiss on her head. “Let’s get in before the water gets cold.”

“The water doesn’t get cold, it’s magic,” she answered.

It didn’t occur to her to suggest they bathe separately.

She stepped out of her last bits of clothing, kicking it all aside into an approximate pile. The last piece was the blindfold Kenshi always wore. He reached for it, then winced, stitches in his side pulling.

“I can,” she offered, as gently as she knew how.

He nodded, ducking his head so she could reach behind to untie it. When he straightened again, she was shocked to find his eyes open, the irises cloudy and pale. There were no scars, no clear damage that had caused it— magic, then.

Her hand cupped his cheek, thumb brushing beneath one of his eyes. Something in her melted as he leaned into her touch, his lips brushing her wrist, breath caressing her skin and sending a shiver down her arm. She nudged his face up again so that she could kiss him, a craving that she hadn’t been aware of until she’d satisfied it.

Want flared to life inside her chest and burned a path down into the pit of her stomach. Kenshi’s hands latched onto her hips, tugged her until they were flush against each other from chest to hip. It was hungry and earnest, tongues tangling and exploring. His palms felt like whitehot brands, and when they stroked up along her sides, she thought she’d combust.

She was breathless with the contact but she wanted to suffocate with it. She wanted to lose track of his hands because she could trust he wouldn’t hurt her with them. She wanted to be taken apart piece by piece because she knew he could put her back together again. She wanted… oh, she just wanted...

“C’mon,” he murmured, guiding her backwards without ever really breaking the kiss, “let’s at least get…”

And then he got distracted leaving open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. That was fine, she understood what he meant and she didn’t mind leading as long as he didn’t stop.

She almost lost her balance when the back of her knee hit the edge of the tub, but Kenshi locked an arm around her waist and steadied her. A soft laugh left her, more nerves and air than voice, but Kenshi grinned against her temple and helped her in.

The heat of the water coaxed a pleased noise from her throat as she sank down to her shoulders. Kenshi climbed in and crowded close, mouth descending on hers again like he wanted to taste the sound on her tongue. She acquiesced as she felt his hands return to her skin— fingertips trailing over the soft places always hidden beneath clothes and armor, starved for touch beyond pain.

Her fingers laced into his hair, slicked the strands back from his face, and then charted a path across the cut lines of his chest and shoulders. She’d always known he was strong. Stronger than she gave him credit for, strong enough to easily match her in a real fight. Built lithe and athletic, broad shoulders and narrow hips.

She broke the kiss to follow rivulets of water down his neck, finding a spot that made him grunt and twitch against her hip when she set her teeth to it. He caught her hands before they could wander too low, lacing their fingers so he could tug her closer. She sighed against his wet skin, pressed her forehead to his chest.

He twisted around to let her lean against him, his back against the side of the tub. Their legs slotted together, his thigh pressing between both of hers. She untangled their hands to prop herself up with one and run her fingertips over the scar on his calf with the other. The one she’d used magic to help heal, that he’d gotten from a Red Dragon arrow.

The injuries he’d received from Mileena would likely scar as well. She knew the stories behind those, but the others— the silvery one across his chest, the x-shaped one on his shoulder, the one twisted over his hip— were a mystery. But she wanted to learn them, if he wanted to tell her.

He guided her chin up to kiss her again, this one a little softer than the others. She realized with a jolt that his own fingertips were lingering over one of the scars on her back; the cut he’d started to stitch but had been left unfinished halfway through. It had healed uneven, but it was far from the ugliest scar on her body, and there were plenty of them. Most from Quan Chi or Shang Tsung, she recalled without anger or sadness. 

He pulled away from her mouth and pressed his forehead against hers.

“Phoenix,” he murmured, “I promise you, I’m not going to be another person that hurts you. I won’t ever be behind one of these scars.”

Something like a sob caught in her throat, shocked first by his words and second by the tidal wave of emotion they evoked.

“You can’t keep saying these things to me,” she gasped.

He huffed with amusement. “I’m going to.”

She broke on a soft laugh, let him kiss away the tear that slipped down her cheek. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she surged up to meet his mouth in a frantic press, unable to form the words to explain, to respond, to…

“I’ve got you.”

His hands roamed her body, careful over the injuries, over the scars. She leaned into him, felt his heart thumping just as hard and fast as hers. He bent his leg, pressed his thigh against the apex of hers, where she was slick and hot. She rocked her hips down against him, ignoring the twinge in her ribs.

“Easy,” he breathed, hands drifting to her breasts, sword-calloused fingers brushing her nipples. She inhaled sharply, dizzy from how sensitive she was. His touch was maddeningly gentle, teasing her into a burning lust that made her leave marks along his neck and shoulders.

She finally snuck a hand down between them, circling her fingers around his arousal. He made a low, gutted sound in her ear, hands latching onto her hips hard enough to leave his own bruises and stop her from moving. She was about to complain, and then one of his hands slipped down to rub her clit.

Her mouth dropped open on a silent moan, hips twitching for more.

“You’re so quiet,” he mused, “are you alright?”

It took her a moment to find her voice. “I want more.”

He chuckled. “Alright.” A bit-off sound escaped her as he pushed a finger into her, curling to tease at her walls.

“That’s not what I—”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

She blinked. Objectively, she knew that prepping was a thing… she just had never participated in it with a male partner. Never enough time or patience or even really care to bother with it. It stung, sure, but she’d been in worse pain and it faded if they knew what they were doing, anyway.

“You’ll enjoy this,” Kenshi said, “trust me.”

She snorted. “I do.”

He tucked his face against her neck as if she couldn’t feel him smiling against her skin. A second finger joined the first and her breath caught. She rocked into his hand, tightened her own around his cock to tease him right back, matching their paces. Their mouths met in messy kisses, careless teeth scraping across lips.

When his thumb returned to her clit, only for him to work a third finger into her, he finally coaxed a moan from her throat. His fingers on her thigh flexed, the ones inside her curled to stroke something good and prompt another. He practically squirmed beneath her.

Oh?

“Not yet,” he insisted, “just be patient.”

She smirked and leaned into him, letting herself moan and gasp and whine into his ear as the pleasure sent shivers up her spine. His cock twitched and throbbed in her hand, his hips jerking up when she ran her thumb over the head.

“Alright, alright,” he gasped  _ finally _ , snatching her hand away with the same hand that had just been stretching her so good.

“I wanna ride you but my ribs…”

He nodded, catching his breath and straightening. “How do you want to do this?”

She considered for a moment, then climbed off his lap and urged him aside so that she could brace herself against the side of the tub. There was a shelf beneath the water that he’d been sitting on, and she propped a knee on it while the other stayed straight. She paused, gauging the strain, and decided it wouldn’t hurt her ribs or her back too much.

“Like this,” she decided.

Kenshi sucked in a breath, and she remembered with quite a bit of gratification that he could see her silhouette. And it was a damn good silhouette, especially when she arched her back a little in offering.

“Come here,” she purred, “I want you.”

He audibly swallowed, his hands sliding across her wet skin and hooking around her hips. She hummed to express her approval, glancing at him over her shoulder and freezing. Oh, the view. In the low light, his skin shown across flat planes and fell into harsh shadow at the dips of his muscles. Water dripped down the ridges of his abdomen, drawing her eye to his cock, hard and flushed for her.

His grip tightened. She tilted her hips back as he stepped closer, the head of his cock teasing at her entrance.

“You’ll tell me if…”

“I promise,” she assured, “don’t make me wait anymore… please.”

Despite her demands, he entered her agonizingly slow, inch by inch filling her up until her mouth fell open on a wordless noise. It didn’t hurt, not even a little, and okay, she’d admit that was nice.

“Told you,” he huffed, sounding strained.

“Are you telling me ‘I told you so’ when you’re about to fuck me?” she scoffed, honestly more amused than offended.

“Uh, right, sorry,” he said.

She bit her lip on a smirk and rocked back against him. “ _ Kenshi _ .”

His hips snapped forward, burying his cock deep inside her. She gasped, planted her foot more firmly and tightened her grip on the edge of the tub. Kenshi didn’t waste any more words or time. Water sloshed against the sides of the tub, his relentless pace setting electricity through every cell in her body.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” she whispered, “yes, gods.”

She couldn’t control her breathing or heartbeat. Couldn’t keep her legs from going weak when he changed the angle and hit a sweet spot that made her walls spasm. Couldn’t keep her arms steady when he yanked her back to meet him. Couldn’t keep the noises in when he moved faster, harder, jolted forward every time he rocked into her.

The pleasure was mounting, drowning her in sensation, no room for thought. All she could focus on was how good she felt, even her lingering injuries numb and silent beneath the flood of ecstasy. The head of his cock was dragging along her sensitive walls just right to make her suck in air when he withdrew, only to knock it from her lungs when he sunk deep again.

“I-I’m close,” she choked out, voice coming out higher than she’d ever heard it.

One of his hands unlatched from her hip to curl around, rubbing fast, messy circles over her sensitive clit. His teeth grazed her shoulder as he panted against her skin. The world narrowed down to the mind-numbing pleasure of the next several thrusts, to the delicious heat that bloomed from every point of contact between them.

Her orgasm was a cresting wave that broke on a wordless cry, her head tilted back and rough voice echoing into steam. She shivered and shook, overwhelmed and spasming around his cock as Kenshi slowed but didn’t stop until he was overtaken by his own release. They stayed like that for several moments, bodies trembling through aftershocks, breaths evening and hearts slowing.

Her arms finally collapsed when he pulled out, but caught her around the shoulders and kept her from face-planting into the water. They settled against the side of the tub again with content sighs, Nix sprawled in his lap with her face tucked against his shoulder.

“Alright?” he asked after a while. His thumb was drawing mindless patterns around one of her scars. She’d been lazily fixated on the sensation as she’d floated in afterglow, warm and relaxed. She hummed an affirmative and pressed a lingering kiss to his collarbone.

She had a feeling things would be alright now for a long time.


	24. Experiment on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some truths are revealed in Quan Chi's office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good lord, I have motivation to write but not for any of the things I actually want to work on. Please send help.

When Takeda found them, they’d long gotten dressed, in all but their armor and boots. They were discussing their plans for the day, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning into each other like a pair of lovesick fools. Nix’s shoulder was pressed against his, Kenshi’s hand smoothing over the scars on hers.

Takeda crashed into the room with all the boundless energy inherent to an eight-year-old, neither of them surprised when he made a beeline for them.

“Good morning!” he chirped, clambering into their laps.

“Morning,” Nix chuckled.

He received a kiss on the forehead from each of them, his wide smile almost audible.

“I helped make breakfast!” he declared. “Izana showed me how to make your favorite, mom.”

A burst of pleasant shock from Nix made Kenshi smile. He knew there wasn’t much from her life in Outworld that was worth remembering. The few stories she’d shared made it sound like a decades-long nightmare. To hear that anything had been enjoyable, even something as mundane as comfort food, was a welcome surprise.

“Is there some for me too?” Kenshi asked.

He chuckled at Takeda’s immediate (and somewhat offended) “Of course!”

Nix’s favorite was, apparently, full of fruits and sweet breads. Kenshi hadn’t expected that, somehow. Though his ideas of her had undergone drastic adjustments, he still found himself surprised by his unconscious assumptions.

Apparently, she had a wicked sweet-tooth.

“Shut up,” she told him mildly, “it’s a well-kept secret.”

Izana, who was hovering nearby, apparently for her own amusement, chuckled. “It’s true. She used to sneak in for treats long after she’d taken her title as high sorceress. She’d come in with her nose buried in books…”

Kenshi could practically feel the heat of Nix’s blush, but she suffered with surprising patience. Now that he thought about it, Izana had seemed somewhat nervous the day before, but not frightened of Nix. Of Nathan, yes, but not Nix.

For a while, Kenshi had been wondering if Nix had ever had a mother figure, apart from whoever she’d left in her previous dimension. She’s grown up with her uncle as her sole guardian, ducking the attention of the other numerous men within the palace. Still, Kenshi had never been able to imagine Quan Chi explaining puberty to an adolescent Nix— not that he really wanted to.

Perhaps Kenshi had his answer now.

There was a clear distance between Nix and Izana, true. Kenshi could see it echoing from decades past, a carefully maintained gap that protected both parties, but. Nix had a clear soft spot for the woman despite her cool exterior.

“Oh, and she was such a cute child,” Izana sighed, fond nostalgia thick in her voice, “with the biggest eyes I’d ever seen!”

Nix let out a quiet groan, sinking into her seat and stuffing a sweet roll into her mouth. Takeda, by contrast, perked up.

“What was she like?” he asked.

Nix grumbled, but did nothing to interrupt. Kenshi patted her knee in solidarity, even as he listened with rapt attention.

Izana hummed. “Oh, so serious!” she chuckled, “It took three years before I saw her smile. And she always spoke like a tiny adult. Very sure of herself.”

And though he felt a little guilty for it, he dipped into Izana’s thoughts. Just long enough to get a mental image of a lavender-haired child with huge violet eyes, hands sticky with honey as she devoured the exact same rolls they were eating. Her expression set in a determined little frown even as she lit up with private delight.

A whack to his shoulder startled a laugh out of him.

Nix grumbled something under her breath through a mouthful of fruit, prompting another bout of giggles from Takeda. Izana trailed off with a pleased hum. And Kenshi just smiled and settled in to enjoy breakfast.

They let Takeda’s food settle before travelling to the wing Quan Chi’s office resided in. Kenshi could sense magic everywhere, old but still active so many years later. Nix scoffed at it, unimpressed.

“Shoddy craftsmanship, if I do say so myself,” she said.

“Oh?” Kenshi asked.

“I can tell he was in a hurry,” she said, running a hand along the stone wall, “this shouldn’t be dangerous at all. It’ll be good practice for all of us.”

_ Not dangerous at all _ meant zombie warriors crawling out of the ground and the occasional nasty trap, set off via magic tripwires when they crossed thresholds and antechambers. Nix and Kenshi took the opportunity to practice their teamwork with the more powerful and numerous enemies. Learning how each other moved and where their blind-spots were, getting accustomed to maneuvering around and with each other.

Takeda even got the chance to practice his newfound skills with low risk and heavy supervision. Nix let him spar a few of the grunts or barely-still-standing foes. He got to practice his stealth, and Kenshi instructed him through a few basic telepathic exercises to scout danger and magical seals.

It was a nice little workout after their battle the day before. Kenshi was surprised by how… easy it seemed.

“You sure we’re not about to discover something really nasty?” he asked.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on things, but this is about as nasty as it gets,” she answered. “To be fair, this would be almost impossible for anyone without magic like me.”

She’d diffused a few traps that Kenshi wouldn’t have known how to handle, true, but he hadn’t realized they were  _ that _ complicated. Nix made everything look so easy.

In less than an hour, they reached a tall door that reeked of black magic. Takeda shuddered at the sight of it, edging closer to Kenshi as Nix approached. She murmured something, waved a hand at the lock, and whatever curses had undoubtedly been placed dissipated. The door swung inward with a deep, echoing creek.

“Alright, seriously don’t touch anything in here,” she warned. Kenshi was pretty sure she was talking to both of them. “Quan Chi liked to keep his secrets.”

Nix entered first, Takeda still close to Kenshi’s side as they followed. She paused barely a few meters inside, her spine rigid. Kenshi could ‘see’ enough of the office to recognize it from that memory-dream he’d accidentally been privy to at the Shirai Ryu temple. He waited a few moments, letting her wrestle through her demons in peace.

“Alright,” she said, exhaling hard, “let’s get started.”

***

Kenshi couldn’t exactly help her read through Quan Chi’s notes and journals, but he refused to leave when she gave him the out. He entertained Takeda in a clear space of the office instead, helping him practice his katas. Nix watched them whenever the seeping memories felt like they were drowning her.

Though Quan Chi had never conveniently labelled his notes “evil plans” or “kamidogu lore,” he kept things organized well enough for her to narrow things down. When she and Nathan had retrieved the dagger, they’d been somewhere between fifteen and eighteen. Since his notes were more or less chronological, she leafed through his ledgers from those three years.

Something caught her attention near the end of the second one, but not what she was hoping for.

_ My experiments have yielded useful results, though the impact on the twins’ mental states remains in question. While I intended to neutralize their humanity and morality, I did not anticipate the volatility of the changes they have undergone. _

_ Nathan’s aggression and sadism have grown exponentially, perhaps without much interference on my behalf. His disorderly temper and poor impulse control only worsen with time. It is reliably checked by Phoenix as it has always been, but lacking her presence, he is unstable and dangerous. His obedience is reluctant at times, but satisfactory for now. _

_ The side effects on Phoenix have been subtle, yet more unpredictable. She certainly appears more stable than Nathan, but her empathy remains an obstacle. I am suspicious that her occasional demonstrations of restraint from violence are prompted by weakness. _

_ A spell I cast removes or otherwise eliminates the memories of these incidents. Her behavior adjusts accordingly for a time, though not permanently. It will suffice until I can be certain of her motivations. I am wary of implementing more drastic measures, since she usually performs as desired. While Nathan is useful as he is now, I have no use for another. _

_ Overall, they are still young and malleable for improvement. Their uses far exceed their failings— for now. _

The book fell from her hands as she crouched down, gripping at her pounding head. She had known her entire life that he’d been experimenting on her and Nathan. She had even known, in some abstract capacity, that he’d picked and pulled at their minds. But this… this was something else.

It hadn’t just been twisting their perceptions, inducing hallucinations, exposing their thoughts and feelings. He’d chipped at their psyches for years, intentionally sinking them deeper and deeper into obedient madness. The pillars of their sanity had been eroded little by little until—

She scrambled for one of the later volumes, flipping pages until she found— there.

_ The twins survived the spell. Their life forces have been successfully tied together. One can no longer die so long as the other remains living. I don’t believe they could even kill each other, if they were so inclined. _

_ There seem to be regrettable consequences to such a drastic procedure. I believe Nathan’s mind is no longer salvageable. A pity, after all the time and energy I have invested in him, that Shang Tsung will now get more use of him. _

_ Phoenix was hardly more coherent in the first few hours that she regained consciousness, but she has improved somewhat since. I considered that Nathan’s insanity may perhaps be attached to his very soul and infected her. However, she appears to be recovering, though I doubt she will ever be quite as stable as she once was. Unfortunate, I suppose, but she still remains useful. _

Nix squeezed her eyes shut, jaw clenched so tight that her teeth ached. Quan Chi had stitched their lives together on a shoddy theory, had thrown Nathan away so easily when the results had been dissatisfying.

They’d been lucky, so lucky, that they hadn’t turned out worse, as terrible as they’d become. It had all been pure chance— that they’d survived. That it had been Nathan whose mind had finally collapsed. That when she’d separated him from the amalgamation of Ermac, she’d somehow reformed enough of his shattered pieces to resemble something almost sane.

And gods, she’d been lucky that she hadn’t just deteriorated with time.

The thought made her ill. She had been so close to an edge she wouldn’t have come back from, and she’d never known. What would it have taken, to snap her once and for all? How much desolation would she have wrought before someone could finally put her down for good?

“Nix?” Kenshi’s hand was on her shoulder, firm and grounding. “Are you alright?”

“I… I don’t think so.”

She set the book aside, pressing a hand to her eyes and leaning against his chest.

Her memories were broken and dubious, but she remembered that the blackouts had started sometime around the first entry she’d read. Quan Chi had praised and encouraged it, when he’d seen one for the first time. Had they been his doing, or just a “desirable” side effect? It didn’t matter either way.

It wasn’t Quan Chi’s actions or feelings (more accurately, his lack thereof) that shook her. She’d long come to terms with his apathy, and was settled in the reality of the things he’d done to her and Nathan. They were facts of her previous life, things that she’d accepted and was prepared to move on from.

But ever since she’d struck out on her own, intent to become someone other than Agony, she’d insisted on taking responsibility for her own actions. There were no excuses or justifications for what she’d done. She’d intentionally inflicted pain and suffering, had even been proud at the time.

_ Had she, though? _

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kenshi asked.

She drew in an unsteady breath. “I found the reason for my memory issues.”

They couldn’t be trusted, apparently, but surely she  _ had _ committed such atrocities. That had been her purpose, after all. Even if she really hadn’t been in her right mind, did it make a difference to the reality of what she’d done? Was that an excuse for murder and torture? Was that leave for the urges she  _ still _ battled, the morality she struggled with?

How much of her identity was real? How much of it was a fabrication? Could she be trusted? Was she still a ticking time bomb, one bad day away from losing whatever sanity she’d managed to cobble together?

“Phoenix, breathe.” Kenshi’s voice was soothing in her ear. Kenshi’s hands were running over her back and shoulders. Kenshi’s heart was beating beneath her ear, his warmth seeping into her cheek. “Come back to us.”

“Do I—” her voice cracked, her thoughts struggled beneath their own weight. “I don’t know what I am.”

Kenshi’s hand smoothed over her hair, a low hum reverberating through his chest. She clutched onto his shirt, a small part of her brain trying to determine if the noise was thoughtful or confused.

“Everything I did… everything I was…” She shuddered, whispered. “Abomination.”

“What about now?”

Her whirling thoughts ground to slow stop. “Now…?”

“The past is the past,” he said. “No matter how you look at it, it already happened. Who you are— what you are—  _ now _ can be different. It already is, you’ve shown me that.”

The words sank into her mind, each one like a pebble into a lake. Their impact rippled out along the surface and left stillness in their wake, coming to rest heavy at the bottom.

_ Who was she now? _

She was Takeda’s mother. She was Kenshi’s lover. She was Hanzo’s friend, and Earthrealm’s ally. Sometimes, she was even still Nathan’s sister.

But she wasn’t Agony anymore.

No matter what she’d done before, she wasn’t doing it now. However many sins she’d committed, she wasn’t going to add to their numbers. There was no forgetting her past— she wouldn’t have, even if she could— but she could carve out a better future.

“Mom?” Takeda’s voice, small and worried, came from her side. A small hand settled on her arm.

Breathing deeply, she sat back on her heels. It helped to see him— both of them— real and concrete in front of her. They cared about her even knowing who she had been. They saw something in her worth loving, and their existence alone reminded her that she was capable of something other than cruelty.

“Are you okay?” Takeda asked, even as he climbed into her lap.

“I will be,” she answered, smoothing a hand through his hair.

“Will you be better if we go somewhere else?” he wondered. “It’s kind of ugly in here. Maybe if you read somewhere nicer it would help.”

She huffed, amusement and affection filling in all the empty spaces that her earlier shock had left.

“I ever tell you that you’re the smartest kid I know?”

Takeda rolled his eyes. “I’m the  _ only _ kid you know.”

***

They collected all the journals and scrolls that looked like they’d be promising and trekked back to the main section of the palace. All of the traps and charms of Quan Chi’s chambers had been permanently disabled, which meant it was safe for anyone to wander into. Not that anyone was likely to, but the option was there.

They found a cozy sunroom near Nix’s old quarters— a new addition, but not unwelcome— filled with long, cushioned couches and thick rugs populated by broad floor pillows. The colors were all warm, earth and jewel tones, shot through with the occasional pop of turquoise Kotal Khan seemed to favor. There were large open windows that kept it from being too hot, even with the sun shining in.

It was instantly better than sitting in Quan Chi’s cold, dark, oppressive office.

“You really are so damn smart, kiddo,” she said, wrapping him in a one-armed hug.

Takeda grinned up at her. “ _ Hell _ yeah I am!”

“Give us a sec while I kill your mother, Takeda.”

“How is this my fault?!”

The reading was slow-going and still difficult at times, but she took breaks to remind herself of who she was and where she was. Braced for any other unpleasant shocks, it was more surprising that the truth behind her memory problems was the worst of it— at least in the set of notes she read.

Still, there was enough useful information in the dozen that she skimmed through to consider looking through the rest of the collection. Mention of the Kamidogu was midway through the seventh ledger, including his troubled retelling of how she’d nearly killed Shang Tsung. An entire two-page spread followed it with the procedure he’d used to neutralize them.

She whistled lowly, eyebrows arching as she looked it over.

“Found something?” Kenshi asked.

“Yeah, finally,” she replied. “There’s only a handful of people who know these spells— or could do them for that matter.”

The corners of his mouth twitched up. “And I supposed you’re one of them?”

“Yes, lucky for us.”

It brought back some of her more neutral memories, too, of learning magical theory and practice. Days and nights spent pouring over ancient, dusty tomes with Nate and standing at Quan Chi’s elbow working through alchemy principles. It had been a long time since she’d thought about any of that, because magic had been an  _ Agony _ thing, but now…

She set aside the relevant information, then continued reading to double check that his precautions had actually been useful. In a pleasant twist, they had been, which meant their mission was an official success.

They took a break to eat again. Nix contributed little to the conversation, letting her mind rest and drift through the information and emotions she’d unearthed. Kenshi and Takeda didn’t seem to mind, entertaining each other and taking turns refilling her tea over their meal.

“Was there anything else you wanted to look into?” Kenshi asked when they’d finished, headed back to the sunroom.

She hummed. “There was something that caught my attention earlier, but I was distracted.”

Takeda didn’t seem thrilled with spending more time stuck in the small room, no matter how pleasant it was. So Kenshi took him to check out the palace’s bestiary after checking that Nix would be alright on her own.

She found the passage about the effects of the procedure that bound Nix and Nate together, ignored it, and flipped to the days prior to their waking. Narrowing her eyes, she skimmed until she found what she was looking for— something she’d begun to suspect, but had never been sure of.

Fuck. Well. At least she hadn’t dirtied her hands with  _ that _ , though she was sick with the knowledge that she  _ would have, _ had she been conscious and ordered to. But she hadn’t, and she would be eternally grateful for that.

Sighing, she marked the page and laid back on the pillows, thinking.

She’d gotten rusty with her magic, at least by standards of the past. Of course, she was still leagues ahead of anyone in Earthrealm, but that was nothing compared to what she’d been able to do at the height of her power in Outworld. Back then, she probably could have solved the Kamidogu problem all on her own.

True, she’d abandoned the more complex stuff for good, practical reasons. Dark magic was easy to track and attracted a lot of unwanted attention. And it usually required sacrifices that she hadn’t been morally bankrupt enough to make anymore. Instead, she’d begun to rely on her more natural empathic abilities and morally-grey kombat magic. She didn’t regret that choice, either. There had been nothing in Earthrealm that  _ needed _ dark magic… until now, anyway.

But it put things in stark perspective, didn’t it? The differences between Agony and Nix. It could be hard to gauge the changes, as gradually as they’d happened and as unreliable as her memories have proven to be. Reading through Quan Chi’s journals reminded her, though, of parts she’d forgotten beneath the weight of everything else and years of separation.

Echoes of it rattled through her mind. The white-hot burn of harnessing elemental forces, the satisfaction in crafting some new spell to leash raw energy to her will. It wasn’t so much a craving as an ache for that old, insulating feeling of invincibility. It had been a heady power to wield when it felt like the world itself was set on tormenting her.

But that wasn’t her reality anymore. She didn’t need that power to feel safe, didn’t need to protect herself from the people around her.

_ She didn’t need that power _ … but it could be useful. In moderation.

***

The first Kamidogu that she neutralized (after Kotal Khan’s in Outworld, because she didn’t plan on returning there any time soon) was the one in the Shirai Ryu temple. It was around the most people, around her  _ son _ , which meant it took priority over anything else. The sentience within wailed and raged as she cast the spells, its malicious voice growing fainter and fainter until it finally fell silent, contained.

Following that accomplishment, she allowed herself a moment to catch her breath. Some of the perpetual tension she kept between her shoulder blades uncoiled. She took a day to let Takeda resettle into the temple and his lessons, spent a late morning in bed with Kenshi. She enjoyed the good weather and the Fire Gardens, permitted some vague, optimistic musings about the future beyond the finished mission.

After their dinner settled, she and Hanzo agreed to a sparring match in one of the lantern-lit courtyards, a parallel to the one they’d had a month and a half earlier.

They were halfway through their second round when Hanzo broached the subject first.

“Was your trip to Outworld illuminating?” he asked. “Apart from your success with the Kamidogu, that is.”

She hummed. “You could say that. Quan Chi is more of a bastard than even I gave him credit for.” She retreated a few steps, considered her words as she shook off a blocked punch. “But his records have revealed some truths.”

“Truths?” he asked, catching the undercurrent of her tone.

“About my mental state, for one,” she answered, “about the Revenants, for another.”

She moved in again to exchange a few blows, allowing that last bit to settle into his mind with the appropriate weight. One of her kicks sent him back a couple feet, giving him room to speak again.

“To restore them?” he asked.

“It’s an avenue I’m investigating,” she allowed. “Unfortunately, that means he’ll have to remain alive until I have certainties.”

Hanzo made a noise of agreement, circling in again to trade another few hits before she finally got around to what she needed to tell him.

“There was one other thing that I found,” she said, treading carefully, “that pertains to you.”

He straightened from his defensive stance, narrowing his eyes in recognition of the gravity in her tone. Nix debated how to proceed, but it was a delicate subject with no delicate segue.

“Would you rather hear it from me or read it for yourself?” she asked. Either way, it would be best to brace herself for the worst.

“It isn’t like you to dance around a subject.” It sounded like an accusation.

“I know.”

There was a tense, pregnant moment of silence.

“I’d read it for myself,” he decided.

She summoned the journal into her hands, already open to the damning pages. Nix inhaled as if she was the one who needed to brace herself.

“I need this thing intact,” she said as forewarning, “so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t set it on fire.”

“Nix—”

She stepped forward, offering it to him. “It’s about your family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking maybe one more chapter to tie up some loose ends and then maybe an epilogue. Hopefully they'll both be a little longer but we'll see.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple notes about this story:
> 
> 1\. Flashbacks jump around through time, not chronological. In some cases, I don't even mention what age Nix and Nathan are. That's just to avoid any confusion down the road.
> 
> 2\. Whatever else has happened to the twins, I want to assure everyone that there was no sexual abuse and there is NO incest. Not even "Pseudo-incest" or whatever. Kano makes some comments later on to get a rise out of the twins, but he quickly regrets it. Family ties (even the shitty ones) are serious in this fic and while they're close and unhealthy, they're not sexual.


End file.
